


The Sea Phantom

by JemimaStyx



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Gen, Houen-chichou | Hoenn, Pirates, Shinoh-chihou | Sinnoh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-01-29 18:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JemimaStyx/pseuds/JemimaStyx
Summary: The paths of a young yet powerful trainer, a protégé with a memory for myths, and a thief with a new and powerful position seem unlikely to cross. However, a pirate captain with a score to settle and a love for adventure and fame may just bring them together in search of a cure when the land itself grows ill.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A few quick notes:  
* There will be no canon human characters in this.  
* I will do my best to update and include content warnings should any become relevant.  
* I am happy to answer any and all non-spoiler questions.
> 
> Thanks for reading~

**Ever Grande City, Hoenn**

An exhausted looking wingull fluttered down to land on the ledge of a windowsill. Clutched tightly in its beak was an envelope, stamped and sealed with a golden wax emblem. Its wings stretched out ever-so-slightly as it hopped off the ledge into a grand room.

Blue and silver tapestries hung from the walls, each one telling part of an ancient story. Sea blue carpet ran through the centre of the room, starting at a massive set of doors inlaid with silver inscriptions and ending on the top step of a raised dais at the other end of the room. At the top of these steps was a single chair, bearing the same silvers and blues as the rest of the room. Smaller matching chairs lined the wall on either side of the dais; however, these ones were occupied.

Ten people sat with their backs straight and their gaze directed toward the grand doors. They wore matching robes of sea blue with silver lining. The group was mostly male, all with short-cropped hair. The two women that held seats within the room had grey hair tied back in tight, neat buns.

At the opposite end of the room the eight foot tall doors were opening, revealing the two soldiers responsible for their movement. Both soldiers stepped aside, backs straight and spears in hand.

A third figure came into view, the thick cape that hung from his shoulders and brushed the ground matched the tapestries in the room. The clothes underneath the cape were entirely black and a silver crown rested atop his greying head. He entered the room in silence, his stride long and confident. The people that had been sitting before now respectfully stood, their gazes focused on their king.

He walked to the end, ascending the dais and taking his seat. The people, his advisors, sat down as he did. The soldiers pushed the doors closed; now standing within the room so as to guard their king.

It wasn't until the blue and white pokémon collapsed that anyone took note of it. One of the soldiers left his post to attend to the wingull. He picked it up carefully, removing the letter from its beak. Upon handing the letter to the nearest advisor, he carried the bird pokémon across the room to a door hidden behind one of the tapestries. He opened the door and passed the exhausted wingull through to a servant that was stationed in the hidden room.

While the soldier was preoccupied with the messenger pokémon, the advisor had opened and read the letter. Worry replaced the emotionless expression as he passed it on. The letter made its way to the king, who read it over carefully. When he had finished reading, he folded the letter up and sat in silence. A frown was etched on to his face as he considered the words.

"Sire, we must do something," the first advisor said after a moment of hesitation.

"I agree. This is not something that can be ignored," their king said finally, rising back to his feet. "Reschedule all of today's meetings, we must look to address this immediately," he added, glancing at the man sitting to his right. The man rose, bowed, and hurried from the room to do as he had been asked. "It is worse than we feared."

"What can be done though? This describes the land itself as sick." A second advisor spoke up, the pitch of his voice rising toward the end.

"There will be a cure," one of the female advisors assured them, rising to her feet as well. Within moments, the rest of the advisors were standing as well, forming a loose circle before their king.

"There is, but I do not believe it is in this region," the eldest of the advisors said after a moment of silence. His frail voice was hard to make out from a distance, but most heard him.

"How do you mean?" the king questioned, looking at his elder with a mixture of respect and concern, thick brows pulled together.

"There are pokémon capable of cleansing the land-," he answered, his voice becoming slightly louder.

"A myth," one of the younger advisors replied, his voice over-powering the elder's quiet one and cutting him off. "We can't rely on myths and children's stories to protect our people."

With this, everyone began talking at once. Two sides formed quickly, both wanting to make their thoughts on the matter clear. A third group questioned both.

"Silence!" the king demanded over the arguing, his voice cutting through the bickering. The quiet that followed was stifling in the great stone room.

"King Emery, whether or not there is anything within our borders that can eradicate this disease, none of us can say for certain." It was one of the female advisors that dared to break the silence, setting her gaze directly upon her king, daring any of her fellow advisors to argue with her. "Regardless, all possibilities should be considered. I say we send search parties for a cure while our brightest minds look into this." She avoided specifically mentioning the pokémon by name, lest she spark another fight.

"We should contact King Nathaniel and Queen Adrianna, they may know something of this," another advisor suggested, his voice quiet.

The king nodded slightly at each suggestion before raising his hand for silence. "Lady Selma, you will send word to the captains of our fastest ships. Make no mention of any legends or myths, but request that they search the other regions for a cure. Lord Kale, I want troops organized and sent to all of our cities. People will become desperate if the situation continues to devolve, and there will be more pokémon attacks. I will send word to our neighbours."

"Sire, what about Captain Greyson?" one of the advisors questioned.

"No," he stated, his voice cold and flat, his gaze withering. "I will request nothing of that criminal, not after the last time. If anyone sees that ship, they have orders to sink it."

"But sire-," the advisor started.

"I said, no! You will do as you've been told," the king demanded, knowing he wasn't being entirely fair to his advisors. "Now, we should discuss what kind of reward we should offer for _when_ a solution is found."

* * *

**Cameran Palace, Kanto**

A steady roar filled the large stadium, the very earth it sat upon vibrating. Every seat was full, and every single person there was cheering. Green and red banners were strung up above, criss-crossing against the bright blue sky over the stadium. A handful of officials stood down below, to the side of the battlefield that was painted on to the hard ground in the middle of the stadium.

The door at the north end of the stadium opened, revealing the silhouette of a person. They walked out of the shadows to the edge of the battlefield. The person, clearly male, was dressed in red with a black cape that fluttered out behind him and complemented his strong shoulders. Dark hair framed a bronze face, piercing eyes taking in everything before them. He stopped within the borders of a box that had been painted on to the hard-packed ground. Much to the crowds delight, he raised his right fist to the air as he looked around at the audience.

"Ladies and gentleman, and our royal highnesses, please help me welcome Sir Samuel of Kanto, our reigning three time champion!" The announcer had trouble making himself heard, and the last of his sentence was entirely drowned out by the cheering.

The door at the opposite end of the stadium opened, revealing a second man. Where Sir Samuel was confident, this man was determined. He was dressed much like his opponent, except his clothes were green and his cape white. His brown hair was cut short and he was tanned from countless hours in the sun. He stood in the painted box opposite Sir Samuel, his gaze trained on his opponent, ignoring the audience around them.

When the roaring had died down the announcer continued, "And the challenger, Sir Weston of Johto!"

The officials stepped forward, all holding various flags. The head official raised a blue flag, signalling to the crowd that he'd just ordered the two trainers to choose their pokémon.

There was a flash of light on either side of the field as the two men opened their poké balls. Before Sir Samuel stood a massive brownish-orange pokémon with green wings that was easily taller than any human. A dragonite, years of battle experience reflected in the fierce set of its face. It flapped its wings and roared, further exciting the crowd. On the opposite side of the field was a second massive pokémon, only slightly shorter than its opponent. The armour that made up its body was carefully polished, the sun glinting off of it. Spikes protruded from its back and shoulders, and, when the tyranitar tipped its head back and roared, sand swirled around the stadium.

When the official had finished explaining the rules to the two trainers, he brought the flag down and stepped back. The stadium had already transformed, wind whipping dust and dirt all around the battlefield.

"Dragonite, aqua tail!" Sir Samuel yelled out, starting the battle on the offensive, confident in his pokémon.

The large dragon pokémon launched itself forward, water materializing behind it and swirling through the air around its tail. It approached the opposing pokémon with immense speed, speed that had helped him to defeat his previous opponents with ease.

"Brace yourself and use stone edge, Tyranitar!" Sir Weston called out.

The massive, armoured pokémon planted both its feet firmly, the ground below it trembling with each step. The air around it glowed as countless jagged rocks formed. Dragonite was almost upon him when the rocks shot out, slowing the winged opponent down and causing it to falter slightly. The two crashed, Dragonite's tail slamming into Tyranitar. Tyranitar was knocked back by the impact. Dragonite landed hard on the ground, but kept upright as it shook off the sting of its opponent's counterattack.

Above the stadium, a large blue and white pokémon was diving down toward the battlefield. It avoided the battling pokémon and the sandstorm that raged around them, flying directly to a separate viewing box three levels up. Two guards rushed forward, prepared to protect the occupants of the viewing box from the foreign pokémon that was landing on the ledge. The large bird opened its massive beak, revealing the letter it was carrying. Immediately after the guard had taken the letter from the pokémon, it flew off, heading in the direction of Mt. Silver.

"One of Emery's messengers?" the woman that had been sitting within asked calmly. She shifted her red dress and leaned forward to take the letter from her guard.

"I would assume so. A pelipper, I think it was," the man seated beside her replied. He wore a matching robe of red, and both had golden crowns seated atop their heads.

The door to their private box opened and a flustered looking soldier hurried in, further taking their attention away from the tournament going on below. He carried his helmet under one arm and his face was streaked with dust.

"There's been an attack at Cianwood City. Wild pokémon are over-running the city as we speak. They're requesting our help," he managed to say, breathing heavily.

"Send the Sky Guard out, and update us as soon as there is more news," the woman said as she unfolded the letter to read.

"Yes, Queen Adrianna! Thank you, my queen," the soldier said, bowing slightly. "King Nathaniel, sir," he added with another bow before taking his leave.

"What does Emery have to say?" King Nathaniel asked, his gaze on the letter instead of the battle that was still going on below.

"The plant life in Hoenn is starting to wither, he's described it as a disease spreading across his land," Queen Adrianna responded quietly, re-reading the letter to double check that she had definitely read that. "Nathaniel, this sounds not unlike what is happening in Johto," she realized, looking up at her husband, eyes wide, the briefest flicker of fear crossing them.

"Cianwood," he murmured, coming to the same realization. "Send a scout to check the land around Cianwood City," he ordered one of the guards, who hurried out immediately. "We mustn't jump to conclusions or panic, we must be certain about this."

"They have not yet found anyone in Hoenn with an answer; they're sending ships to find a solution," she added, continuing to read the letter.

"We will need to do something about this when the scout returns with more information," King Nathaniel stated. "And we should send word North, whatever this is, it appears to be spreading. If it's not already there."

Queen Adrianna rose from her seat, causing a noticeable change in the stadium's atmosphere. Much of the audience had noticed the goings-on in the king and queen's private box and much of the cheering stopped completely when their queen rose. Down below, Sir Samuel and Dragonite had also noticed. Sir Weston and Tyranitar took advantage of their lack of attention to launch a powerful, blinding hyper beam directly at the distracted Dragonite. The dragon pokémon was launched backward, hitting the wall and collapsing to the ground.

Tyranitar stood in the centre of the battlefield and threw its head back, its roar shaking the earth around it. Sir Samuel recalled Dragonite and fumbled at his belt for his next pick, unable to keep his gaze from flicking back up to the royal spectator box. He watched as the royal couple exited the box to deal with the new development, ignoring what was happening below.

* * *

**Eterna City, Sinnoh**

The sky was darkening over the city as the sun set. Lamps were being lit in the streets below and most well-to-do citizens were either heading home or already inside. Above the city, a large bird could be seen as it soared lower and lower over the streets and buildings.

If anyone were watching, they would see that it was heading to the north of the city. Toward the largest structure, a small castle. With the fading light, it was hard to make out the exact colours, but it was clearly made from a dark stone. Several of the rooms had lamps lit inside, allowing for the light to shine out through the windows. Few other buildings in the city had glass windows rather than wooden shutters to keep the elements out.

The large bird pokémon landed on one of the window ledges, a letter clutched in its talons. It peered through the window with dark, unreadable eyes. After a moment, it tapped on the glass pane with its long beak until someone walked over and opened the window for it. It picked up the letter in its beak and hopped down into the room.

The person that had opened the window reached for the letter clutched in the fearow's beak, but the long-necked brown pokémon jerked its head away and glared at the human. It was well-trained, and the man reaching for the letter was not its intended recipient.

A young girl walked into the room, looking as though she'd just been preparing herself for bed. Her hair was down and brushed out, creased from being up all day. Her simple, light green dress brushed the floor and threatened to trip her while the sleeves went down just a little bit too far and restricted the use of her hands.

"What's going on in here?" she asked, stifling a yawn as she studied the unfamiliar, vicious looking bird that was in the room.

"It has a letter, but won't hand it over," the man who opened the window replied, shooting the bird a dirty look.

The pokémon studied the girl momentarily before walking over to her, its head bobbing as it walked. Upon reaching her, it reached up and placed the letter in the girl's hand.

"Lord Roric, you don't happen to have any treats for this fearow, do you?" the girl asked, scratching the creature on the top of the head.

The man, Lord Roric, reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small bag. "I have a few left," he replied, emptying the remaining treats into his hand and offering it to the pokémon. The fearow took the treats with a distrustful look at Lord Roric, backing away immediately. It headed back to the window and jumped out of it, disappearing into the night as quickly as it came.

"Would you fetch my brother, please?" the girl requested upon seeing the seal on the back of the envelope.

"Of course, Princess Natalia," the young man responded, hurrying from the room.

By the time Lord Roric returned with the young man that was Princess Natalia's brother, she had finished reading the letter. The young man with Lord Roric did not look impressed at having been called to the room at such a late hour, barely suppressing a yawn.

"You both need to read this," the young woman informed them, handing the letter to her brother. "And try not to look so irritable, Liam."

Prince Liam grumbled something unintelligible before taking the letter. He read it quickly, Lord Roric reading over his shoulder. "I doubt it will spread here," Prince Liam scoffed, shaking his head at the thought.

"We should prepare ourselves, my prince, just in case." Lord Roric kept his voice even, looking at the princess instead. There he found his concern reflected in her face.

"I agree, and we can't stand by and do nothing. We are going to be affected by this whether we act or not." Princess Natalia squared her shoulders and held her head high. "These are our trade partners, as father used to say, their problems are our problems."

Prince Liam frowned, not impressed to find himself out numbered on the matter. "Fine, but what do you think we can do?"

"We should start by sending people to Canalave City. If anyone has heard of something like this before it'll be one of the elders living there," Lord Roric suggested, turning his gaze to the dark streets outside the window.

"Our largest port is there as well, if we need to send out ships or take any in. It will also be among the first cities affected if this problem — this disease — spreads like other illnesses do," Princess Natalia added, pleased to find herself in agreement with Lord Roric.

Prince Liam still seemed unimpressed that they were even going to involve themselves, but even he would admit it was a good place to start. "This can all wait until tomorrow, we aren't sending anyone out at this hour." He did not wait for a response, instead turning on his heel and walking to the door. He paused, halfway out the door. "We have people in the other regions, have them look into this." The door closed softly behind him.

"Lord Roric, I want you to personally travel to Canalave. I trust your judgement on these matters." Princess Natalia crossed the room to stand beside the young man.

"Of course, Your Highness, I would be honoured," Lord Roric responded, turning toward her and bowing slightly. "I will leave at first light."


	2. Chapter 1

A small rowboat cut through the calm sea waters that made up Route 131. With the sun in the still rising the sky and not a cloud in sight, the water seemed to sparkle as it reflected the harsh light. The pokémon that called the area home were enjoying the nice day. Several wailmer were drifting casually not far off and every so often a water-type would leap out of the water and land with a splash. The occupants of the rowboat, however, were not enjoying the weather nearly as much.

There were three of them in the small boat, all of whom were drenched with ocean spray and the two that were actually paddling had begun sweating long before. Shirts that had once been white were plastered against their skin by the saltwater.

The first of the rowers was a large and well-muscled man. It was clear that he had gone bald as he aged despite the grey Monmouth cap he wore on his head. The man paddling beside him was smaller in size and clearly younger in age, but easily as muscular, if not more. Unlike the first, his skin was much darker from sun exposure and he wore a dark blue bandanna instead of a cap. Both men rowed in silence, ignoring the third man in the boat who continued to tell his stories despite his companions paying him no attention. In his early sixties, he was much older than his companions. With the amount of sun and work he'd seen throughout his life he looked even older, his light skin weathered. The long hair he kept back in a ponytail had turned grey long ago and the silver hoops through his ears had faded to a dull grey as well.

"Tha' pod o' wailmer o'er there travels through this 'ere area every year, I swear. I followed 'em when I was but a lad once. Oh did me ma' ever 'ave a fit o'er that one. She fed me nothin' but sour-tastin' berries fer a week, she did," the grey-haired man rumbled cheerfully to his companions. Using a hand to shade his eyes from the bright sun he watched the round, blue pokémon from his seat at the back of the rowboat. "Bet ya' coulda made even that taste good, Cedric."

The larger of the two rowers glanced back at his elder with a small smile, but otherwise did not respond to the compliment. A large shadow passed over the boat and blocked out the sun at that moment. All three men glanced up in time to see the light grey-blue underside of a creature nearly as long as the rowboat as it soared over them to land in the water only a few paces ahead of them. It hit the water with a small splash and floated there for a moment. The pokémon used its tail as a rudder to turn around and face the small boat. The person perched comfortably on its back cast the three in the boat a quick grin.

"Oh, for Arceus' sake… What do you think you're doing, Sketch?" the younger rower shouted, eyes shooting daggers at the young man sitting on the mantine's back.

"Same as you, Sean, except faster, better, and with none of Janek's stories," the young man shot back as his mantine swam alongside the small boat. He seemed quite pleased with the reaction he had gotten from his fellow crew members.

At the young age of twenty, Sketch, as he was called, did not share much in common with his older crewmates. In comparison, he was a lot smaller with a willowy build, though he certainly competed with them for height standing at nearly six feet. He had slicked his messy, light brown hair back from his olive-toned face and tied a silk bandanna around his head to ensure that his hair stayed out of his eyes. Unlike his crewmates, not many would look at him and think 'sailor', not the way he was dressed, with a gold-coloured waistcoat over a black puffed-sleeve shirt. All of which had been lifted from an unlucky merchant on a ship they had captured only two months earlier.

Sean just shook his head and kept rowing. He listened carefully for any sign that Sketch, or, more accurately, his mantine, was going to try anything else, though.

"Boy, how much time d'we get 'ere today?" Janek asked. Nothing Sketch said had ever hurt the older man's cheerful mood, no matter how irritating it might come across to anyone else, Janek would shrug it off, as if the words had never been spoken.

"However long Cedric and Sean take to get what they need," Sketch replied easily. He cast a glance at the pair in question and added, "So probably all day." When he received a questioning look from Janek he answered properly. "Captain Greyson gave us two hours, but I want us heading back to the ship sooner than that if we can."

Several small buildings came into view as they rounded a rocky pillar that stuck out from the water. There were several small boats docked in among the buildings as well. The buildings themselves floated on small rafts connected by floating docks, somewhere down below he knew there were corsola. Many of the buildings were still in the process of being built, and there was no sign of any of the region's soldiers anywhere. The kingdom had not yet accepted the floating village as a town, despite the first building having been built over a decade earlier. The less soldiers, the safer it was for those the king considered criminals.

Sketch glanced over at his crewmates with a grin before looking ahead again. "Let's go, Hurricane," he said to the mantine.

The two sped off in the direction of Pacifidlog Town, leaving the three to follow along at a slower pace.

* * *

**Twelve years earlier**

Both sides of Canalave's well-known canal were bustling with people. Several ships had come into port that morning and the merchants had set up their stalls to hawk their wares. Customers of all kinds walked in among the booths, studying what was offered by each merchant while coins traded hands. Peppered throughout the crowd were guards, walking the streets and watching for crime.

A small girl, only seven years of age, walked among the throngs of people, clinging tightly to her father's hand. Her wide blue eyes were filled with amazement and excitement as she took in her surroundings. Not only was it her first trip to the yearly market, it was also the first time she'd been away from home. The sights and sounds filled her senses, threatening to overwhelm them.

The pair approached a small stall, the man behind it adorned in clothes of rich purples and reds. On the makeshift table before him lay a variety of well-made, brand new poké balls fashioned from apricorns in polished colours that she had never seen before, yellows as brilliant as the sun and blues as deep as the ocean in a storm.

"Stay right here, Alex, I will only be a moment," the little girl's father told her, leaving her to stand on her own at the end of the table while he went to barter with the merchant.

Alex grew bored quickly, her mind and gaze wandering to the crowd of people and creatures around her. Her gaze landed on a small brown pokémon with big ears and a fluffy tail. She nearly squealed with excitement, walking away from the booth where her father was. She followed the pokémon through the crowds until she lost sight of it and stopped. She had not wandered far, but with the crowds pressing in all around her she had managed to completely lose sight of her father and had no idea where she was. Her father would find her, she knew, he always did. Until then, there were all sorts of amazing things on the tables for her to admire.

Alex caught sight of a stall off to the side in a gap between the passing strangers, a table with a variety of round objects on it in all different sizes and patterns. Curious, she walked over to the table, not noticing that there were less people in this section of the market. Closer to the table, her wide eyes took in the round objects, all sorts of pokémon eggs, at least a dozen she thought. The closest egg to her happened to be small, light brown, and covered in tan specks. Small hands reached out and picked the small egg up, cradling it in gentle palms and admiring the smooth shell.

A rough hand gripped her long black hair and pulled her back from the table. "Don't touch those," a rough voice snapped. The other hand belonging to the person reached out and ripped the egg from her grasp.

Alex shrieked with pain, and then again, louder, as she looked up and saw the large man standing over her. A large scar ran down his tanned cheek, mangling the right side of his face. Her young mind whirled, the man was like some horrible thug or pirate from one of her mother's stories, the kind that kept her from wandering too far from the house by herself.

The man's hand fell away from her hair as he himself was ripped away from the ground and lifted into the air. A short distance away stood what would appear at first glance to be a large plant, except for the eyes and mouth that made it clear it was much more than that. Vines had sprouted from its body and were wrapped around the man, lifting him straight up and away from the little girl. His eyes were wide and his mouth formed an 'o', shocked to find himself so far away from solid ground.

Alex ran to her father, his familiar form standing beside his carnivine. He glared up at the man who had dared to touch his daughter. His arm reached out, pulling her close and tight against his side, rubbing her shoulders as they shook from her crying. He studied the man up in the air through narrowed eyes before finally ordering the pokémon to drop the man. He fell through the air a short ways to land on the hard ground. The egg he'd been holding slipped from his grip and was caught by one of Carnivine's vines before it could hit the ground, wrapping carefully around the small bundle.

"I could have you arrested," Alex's father threatened, fairly certain that not only was the man a criminal but that the eggs on the table had not been acquired legally.

"No, no, it's just a misunderstanding!" the man said, panicking. "Keep the egg! A gift." He'd picked himself up and backed toward the table, bumping into it, his hands fumbling for the edge to brace himself.

"Get out of here. If I ever see you again, I'll be sure to turn you in myself," her father threatened. In truth, there was a very slim chance he would be able to get the man arrested. The guards were far too busy with more serious crime in and around the market to deal with a matter so small.

Alex watched as her father collected the egg and recalled his pokémon. Together, the two of them left the market area, the little girl clinging tighter than ever before to her father's hand.

When they were away from the crowds, her father stopped and knelt down in front of her. "I want you to take this," he told her, handing her the brown speckled egg she had been admiring earlier. "If you protect it from all the bad people in the world, one day, the pokémon inside of this egg will protect you as you have protected it."

* * *

**Three years earlier**

"Are you sure about this, Alexandra?"

Alex sighed and looked her mother in the eyes. "Yes," she stated simply. She would not repeat her argument with her mother. She turned back around in her chair and waited for the sound of the scissors.

A moment passed before Alex's mother finally made up her mind, releasing a soft sigh of her own. She lifted the thick black braid that fell halfway down Alex's back and began cutting the base of it with her old scissors until the mass of hair fell away. The sudden lightness of her head and absence of hair against her neck took her breath away, and for the briefest of moments she wondered if she had made a terrible mistake.

The minutes passed as her mother cut away what remained of Alex's hair. It wasn't until the young girl's hair was short enough it stood on its own that she stopped. When Alex turned around, there were tears in the corners of her mother's eyes. They had disagreed and fought for several weeks over the girl's decision. The older woman was devastated with her daughter's choice, but she had come to accept that it was pointless to argue with the headstrong girl. She would do as she wanted, whether her mother agreed or not. Not unlike herself at that age.

Nine years earlier, her husband, Alex's father, had been called to duty. As a registered trainer he had been assigned to a protection detail aboard a ship. One year passed where they heard from him every few weeks. All sorts of bird pokémon had frequented their house, dropping letters before taking off again. Then there was nothing. No one would tell them what had happened or where he was. They couldn't even tell them if he was alive.

And now? Her daughter was about to go off and become a trainer like her father. In the back of her mind, it was almost as though she had lost both of them.

A small brownish-orange pokémon stood to the side, his over-sized head cocked to the side as he watched the pair with curious eyes. He didn't fully understand what was going on, but the small creature's careful eyes took in both mother and daughter. He moved closer to the pair, nudging their legs reassuringly.

"I _will_ come back." Alex tried to put as much of the confidence she felt into her voice as she could. "But I have to do this."

"You can never tell anyone the truth," Alex's mother reminded her once more, desperately hoping the young girl would change her mind.

Alex nodded her acknowledgement, holding the smile on her face so her mother would not see how frustrated she was becoming. Alex was fully aware that there were no registered female trainers in Sinnoh. There was nothing to stop her owning pokémon as a means of protection or for work, but actually going out specifically to train pokémon was not acceptable. Only men had ever been allowed to register as a trainer. The lies she would tell the crown when she registered would be a crime. Alex was fully aware of all of this. She was also aware that the tournaments that she would eventually be attempting to enter were also off limits to women. Despite all of this, Alex was going to become a trainer. She was going to follow in her father's footsteps. If she became a Sinnoh champion there would be no way anyone could deny that she should be a trainer.

Despite the years that had passed, the memory of the last day she'd had with her father was always there and his words rang in her ears as she looked at her one pokémon. The creature that had hatched from that tan-speckled egg had been her world when her father had gone away. The only thing she really had left of her father. The thought saddened her, yet it was also part of what fuelled her dream. Her gaze flicked down to the trapinch, offering him a small smile before focusing again on her mother.

"I love you, mama," Alex told her mother, wrapping her arms around her one last time.

"Be careful," her mother told her as they parted. Tears stained her cheeks as she watched her daughter walk to the door.

"Come on, Saheer," Alex called to her pokémon, already partway out the door. The small pokémon hurried to her side as the two set out on what Alex hoped would be an incredible adventure.

* * *

**Twenty two days earlier**

Three years had gone by, three years of training, battling, and travelling. In those three years she had never stepped foot in Canalave City. In truth, she had been avoiding it. She had not been ready to see the city where her last memory of her father had taken place, but she could stay away no longer. She was so close to qualifying for the upcoming crown tournament. All that remained was for her and her pokémon to prove themselves in the port city.

It was easy enough to do. What she wasn't expecting was for someone to guess her secret.

She had battled and won, proving she was ready to truly compete. In order to waste time until the Guardians decided whether or not she qualified, she had gone to the city's library. It was a truly amazing place. The walls were lined with artifacts, maps, and various ancient pieces of art and throughout the entire building were shelves upon shelves of books containing the history of the region.

She had been studying an ancient map that had been marked with drawings of what appeared to be sea monsters and treasure chests when three guards entered the building. They spotted her easily — few people were currently visiting the building — and walked across the room straight for her.

"Alex Ross, you are under arrest for deceiving the Crown and obtaining your trainer registration illegally," the nearest guard stated when he was only a few feet away. He stopped before her and the other two guards moved to stand on either side of her.

The words were not even out of his mouth before every muscle in her body tensed. She had slipped up. Someone had realized she was not what she said she was, not who she claimed to be. It didn't seem possible, but the guards before her made it clear enough. She knew what this meant. Her pokémon would be taken from her, the ones she had sworn to protect, and she would likely be tossed in a cell. Even if they let her out, she would never see her pokémon again. Nothing would matter anymore.

The only problem with that scenario, was that she wasn't about to let it happen. She grabbed one of her poké balls off her belt and opened it, a brief flash of light arcing out from its centre. The pokémon that materialized before them was white, two ice crystals sprouting from her head and a red band around her waist. The froslass floated nearly two feet off the ground so that her eyes were level with the guards.

Alex shoved past the guard in front of her and ran for the door, knowing her froslass would be able to find her. As she ran, she could feel the temperature in the building drop, sounds of horror coming from the guards as they were enveloped by an illusion.

The door swung open easily, allowing her to dart through, where she collided with a white-haired boy. He stumbled backward, landing roughly on his behind. The wide eyes that looked up to meet her own were enough to say she had thoroughly startled him.

Without bothering to apologize, she took off down the road toward the docks. The air beside her felt like a cold winter wind as her froslass appeared alongside her. Somewhere far behind them she could hear the guards shouting, calling for her to stop. Several ships came into view ahead of them as they rounded a stack of crates and entered the dockyard. She knew she needed to disappear — and for a while. Her best option had to be a ship. Maybe when people forgot about her she would be able to return. Until that time she would go elsewhere and continue her training.

One of the ships was just being loaded. Several machamp and machoke were carrying large crates and barrels aboard what she hoped was just a merchant ship and not a naval ship — it would be just her luck to pick a ship full of the people that wanted to arrest her. Several people were hurrying about trying to get things in order, but no one seemed to notice her.

"Good job, Skadi," she told her pokémon before returning it to the poké ball. She could only hope the guards hadn't spotted her yet.

As she neared the crates yet to be loaded she slowed her pace, hoping to avoid drawing attention to herself. She hid behind one of the crates until the pokémon boarded the ship once more. When she was sure no one was looking, she pried the lid off of the crate she was beside and pulled herself up and into it. She pulled the lid back over until it was as close to the way it was before as she could get it and laid back. She had chosen a crate full of apricorns, a horrible spot to hide comfortably, but it would have to do.

The minutes passed. Every minute was an eternity. The guards were sure to find her soon. Someone outside, likely one of the pokémon, readjusted the lid and lifted her hiding place from the ground. The sensation of being in motion without moving was disorienting. She prayed to every deity she could think of that they were carrying her onto the merchant ship. She let out a quiet sigh of relief when she felt the box become stationary. It was a moment before she realized it wasn't truly stationary, the box itself was on the ground, but the ground itself seemed to be shifting. She was on a ship.

Aboard the ship, she let the tears fall. She had really screwed things up. Not only was she wanted in Sinnoh, she was now on a ship with no idea of her destination.

* * *

**Present**

Several weeks had passed, though Alex had no idea of exactly how many. She had been hiding in the ship's hold the entire time, and couldn't help but feel as if she would never see the sun again. Every so often, someone would come down to grab something or to check on the condition of the containers. Over the past few days the number of people coming down had increased. The increased activity worried her. If they were becoming suspicious of her presence she could be in trouble.

Alex was in the middle of digging through a barrel full of preserved berries when she heard the sound of feet moving quickly on the stairs leading down into the hold. She jumped back, turning to hide, but it was too late. The person coming down the steps had spotted her and called out for help. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew her reflexes should have been better.

Upon seeing the three large men storming down the stairs, each with a poké ball in their grip, she re-thought her idea of grabbing one of her own poké balls. Outnumbered and with nowhere to go, she realized that she would have to do this peacefully. It was the safest idea, but she didn't like it.

Moving slowly, she stepped carefully out into the open. Two of the large men moved to either side of her and grabbed her by the arms. They all but lifted her up the steps, up to the top deck of the ship. The bright sunlight above deck was blinding. Her eyes were open, but she might as well have been looking into the darkest of nights for all that she could see. Pieces came to her, slowly and painfully. The wooden planking beneath her feet, fuzzy figures around her. The man who had been the first to spot her ran off to find the ship's captain, returning a moment later with another large, blurry man.

"We found this stowaway in the hold, sir," the man to her right informed the newcomer. The railing around the deck of the ship was taking form, the blue waters beyond reflecting more blinding light.

The large man who was clearly their captain studied her briefly with a cold expression. "Looks a bit scrawny to be of any use to us. Toss him over board," the captain ordered before turning and walking away. The stitched pattern on the back of his shirt was taking form, the intricate details hard to focus on as they moved farther away.

Alex was momentarily offended at the slight, but had more to worry about as the large men hauled her to the ship deck's railing. "No! Please, no! Wait—" she rasped, clawing at anything she could reach. They lifted her by her arms despite her weak struggle and dumped her over the side of the ship.

The water below was cold — shockingly so — as it swirled around her and submerged her. She opened her mouth to scream, watched as the bubbles escaped up toward the light. Cold water rushed in, nearly choking her. She was going to drown. She kicked out, grateful for the stabbing cold that reminded her she was still alive. She struggled to the surface where she watched as the ship sailed away from her, leaving her there to drown in the deep waters.

She splashed around, turning a complete circle. Nothing but open water on every side. It seemed they had quite literally just dumped her in the middle of the ocean.


	3. Chapter 2

The floating docks and small buildings of Pacifidlog Town were bustling with activity. As Sketch stepped onto the dock he had to step out of the way of several sailors as they walked by carrying barrels between them to a small schooner docked nearby. In the other direction, several workers were carrying lumber and various pieces of equipment to a larger section of dock where a second group was beginning the construction of a new small building.

"Good job, Hurricane," Sketch told the mantine that was staring up at him quite happily from her place in the water. She cooed happily at his words before disappearing into the small blue poké ball he had pulled out.

He attached the poké ball to his belt and looked out to see that his crewmates were still a good hundred meters out. Instead of waiting for them, he turned on his booted heel and set off down the dock.

The biggest problem with how the town was set up, in Sketch's opinion, was that you had to weave around on the docks to get to where you were going. This was especially frustrating when someone needed to get to the building that was all the way across the tiny town. It didn't take long to reach the small building either way, but it would have been a lot easier if he could have simply walked straight across to it.

Standing before him was the oldest building in the small town, having been constructed some twelve years earlier. The circular wooden structure had faded, the wooden boards worn from the constant salty spray while the thatched roof showed signs of disrepair. Beaded curtains hung in the doorway, shifting and rattling in the light breeze coming off the ocean. He could make out little beyond the curtain.

Sketch reached back down to his belt and pulled out a black poké ball. It opened with a brief flash of light, revealing a long-bodied pokémon. The fur on its body was mostly tan with several brown rings and a brown head. The furret shook itself out and stood tall on its hind paws to look around at its surroundings, curiosity bright in its dark eyes. When a wave rocked the platform they were standing on, the pokémon swayed with it.

"Alright, Flynn, you remember the crazy old zubat of a woman that lives here, right?" The furret glanced up at Sketch when he started speaking, tilting his head slightly to the side. Flynn nodded in acknowledgement, though his fur bristled slightly at the memory and a low growl rumbled in his throat.

The woman he spoke of was highly paranoid, she had no trust in the king or his armies — or likely anyone else, for that matter. She kept an eye on everything the king and his armies did, especially his ships. As unpredictable as she was, she was an excellent source of information for pirates and criminals — for the right price. The main problem that Sketch had found in his dealings with her was that the woman was absolutely insane.

Sketch reached out and pushed the beads aside so that he could walk through, letting them swing back into place behind him. Flynn slunk through beside him, muscles tensed and ready for action. The building contained only one room, its condition not unlike the outside with its rounded walls and faded wood. Now that they were inside, they could see the two windows that had been boarded up long ago. Small slivers of light streamed in through the few small holes in the roof and from the entrance, leaving most of the room in shadow. All sorts of trinkets were strung up around the room, while others lay strewn across tables and chairs. Everything from clamperl shells and gyarados fangs to feathers, shards, and coral. Different types of seaweed had been treated and stretched out across the floor, a colourful carpet in every shade between blue and green.

Across the room was a small figure, bent over a table while bony fingers worked at what looked like an eyeball at first glance. It wasn't until Sketch's eyes had adjusted to the dim light that he recognized the item clutched in the old woman's fingers as a pearl. Upon the young man and his furret's entrance, her movements paused and she glanced up at them. Dark eyes mostly hidden by the shadows studied the pair for a moment before she straightened up – or straightened as much as she could. A ragged dark grey cloak hung from her thin frame. Braided white hair stood out against the dark collar, a stark contrast against her heavily tanned face.

"Good afternoon, Kala," Sketch greeted her, gaze trained carefully upon her figure in case she made any sudden movements.

_Fwoosh_. A blur flew past his head, a wing barely missing his ear. He couldn't help but flinch, one arm coming up instinctively to protect himself. A gold and black bug pokémon materialized on the table beside Kala. Its wings fluttered briefly before flattening against its back.

The woman brushed her hand across the ninjask's back, her gaze not leaving Sketch's face. "Aye, this one is," she rumbled in reply, her voice raspier than he remembered. "Best enjoy it while you can, won't always be this nice."

Behind him, Flynn's fur rose along his back, and he crouched closer to Sketch's legs. While Sketch's gaze flicked back and forth between the woman and her pokémon, the furret's dark eyes remained carefully fixed on the ninjask.

Sketch pulled out a small bag of gold pieces and tossed it onto the ground in the middle of the room. "We need to know everything you've learned about the increase in naval activity," Sketch requested, avoiding the woman's eyes while keeping track of her every move.

Kala dropped the pearl to the table and hurried around from behind the table to snatch up the bag of gold. She spilled it out on the table with a clatter and studied the small pile in silence. One of her bony hands picked up a piece of gold and lifted it to her mouth. She bit down on it with teeth dark with age and neglect. When it didn't bend she tossed it back on to the pile and began counting the pieces. The only sounds in the small room were that of gold pieces sliding over wood and unintelligible mutterings from the woman. Several minutes passed before she finally stood back and faced Sketch.

"Fine, fine," she grumbled, dark eyes fixed on his face, on eyes that would not meet hers. "This is what you wish to know of." Kala reached into one of the pockets of her cloak and drew out a crumpled piece of paper. She offered it out to him, but made no effort to step forward and give it to him.

Flynn's ears flattened against his head and he pawed the ground as Sketch stepped cautiously forward to retrieve the paper. The furret, unlike his trainer, was more than aware that the ninjask was not the only pokémon in the room. The last time they had visited the floating house they had left drenched in water after the woman's marill had attacked them. That same marill was currently half-buried and asleep under a pile of dried, treated seaweed. Not far away from the round, blue pokémon, a purple and black pokémon was sleeping, the dark pearls on its head and body glowing dully, almost imperceptibly. The grumpig was unfamiliar to Flynn, but he knew not to trust it. Yet Sketch was now moving closer to the unpredictable woman and her equally unpredictable pokémon and away from the furret.

When Sketch was close enough to grab the paper, he stopped and reached out for it. The moment his fingers touched the paper, something in the room changed. Before he had even gotten a good grasp of the paper, Kala moved forward, reached out, and gripped his upper arm with her free hand. The movement was smooth and fast, completely unlike the jerky way she had touched the coins. Her bony fingers dug sharply — painfully — into his arm.

Sketch's gaze flicked up from the paper, eyes wide and mouth cracking open. Upon meeting her dark eyes, he found himself unable to move, muscles frozen. It was as if he was staring directly into two bottomless pits, or, perhaps, her blackened, empty soul.

"You will ask for death's cold embrace before you find what you seek," she hissed.

_Bang!_ The table behind her smashed against the wall and everything on it clattered to the ground as Flynn crashed into the grumpig. Glowing pearls dimmed instantly upon impact. The small room was chaos. The ninjask buzzed angrily, stopping itself mere moments before it would have hit the wall. The marill scrambled out of its sleeping spot, a tangle of seaweed dragging behind it. Water swirled around its tail as it scrambled to assist the grumpig and protect Kala.

Sketch snatched the paper from the woman's hand and tore himself away, turning and hurrying for the exit. Scattered trinkets crunched under his boots, threatening his balance. His heart was pounding, blood rushed to his head and every hair on his body felt as though it were standing up. He wanted nothing more than to be as far away from the crazy woman as possible. Flynn clambered away from the three pokémon that were descending upon him, dodging around objects and ducking projectiles aimed at his head as he tore across the room after Sketch.

The two didn't stop running until they were several floating buildings away from the small house. No one emerged through the beaded curtains to follow them, though.

"Thanks," Sketch breathed, shaky hands scratching the fluffy brown and tan pokémon behind its ears. Flynn visibly relaxed, fur flattening and ears flicking forward with contentment. "That woman has completely lost it," he added, once he was sure his heart would not beat its way out of his chest.

Flynn rumbled in agreement.

* * *

Despite the blazing sun that hung in the middle of the open sky, the ocean water was chilly. As another wave of salty water sloshed over Alex's head, briefly submerging her, she scrambled for some thought or idea of what to do as she clawed her way back to the surface. She was now realizing she had not spent nearly enough time in the water during her childhood, and knew that her unpractised arms and legs could only keep her head above water for so long.

There were really only two options. She could give up and let the cool ocean waters take her away. There was no arguing with the fact that she couldn't see any signs of land or rescue, but giving up did not really seem doable, not yet anyway. The other option was for her to rely on her pokémon to get her out of this mess that she had gotten them all into. There was no guarantee it would do more than prolong the inevitable, but doing something had to be better than doing nothing.

She shook her head to get the hair out of her eyes, droplets flew from her hair as the short, dark strands plastered themselves to her forehead. She reached down to grab one of the poké balls from her belt, fingers brushing over each of them in a panic, checking that all four were there before retrieving the one she wanted. Another wave threatened to overtake her as she released the pokémon held within.

The sight of the greenish-blue pokémon that materialized in the water beside her brought tears to her sore eyes. The wing-like fins moved naturally in the water to keep the mostly round body afloat as she surveyed her surroundings. The lumineon purred questioningly, searching Alex's face and their surroundings with confused, pink eyes. She drifted closer to her trainer, allowing Alex to cling to her back.

"Sorry, Adria, I—I really screwed up this time," Alex told her pokémon. She was relieved to be able to just rest and drift for the moment without having to worry about drowning. Her entire body spasmed as she coughed against the salty water in her lungs.

The lumineon swung her fins back so that she hit Alex lightly on the arm. The lighter markings on her fins glowed softly then dimmed.

When she could breathe again, Alex pulled out a second poké ball. It opened with a flash of bright light, her flygon appearing in the air above them. A soft melody drifted through the air, carried by the breeze as he beat his wings to keep his long, light green body aloft. He looked around in confusion at the open expanse of water before glancing down at Alex and the lumineon she clung to.

The half-ground type did not look at all impressed to find himself in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by nothing but water. Alex felt the familiar burning sensation on her cheeks that she knew meant her face was reddening, reflecting the embarrassment she felt inside.

"Saheer, would you mind flying up and seeing if you can spot land?" she requested of the flygon, voice cracking and raspy.

She could have sworn that her flygon rolled his eyes at her, but he took off into the air above them regardless. He was a small green speck in the sky within seconds, his wings a blur as he shot up through the air. The beautiful melody faded away as he ascended, leaving Alex and Adria with only the sounds of the ocean waves and their own breathing as company.

The minutes that passed felt like hours stranded in the water, heart and mind racing as she waited with bated breath. Saheer came diving back down toward them, dropping so fast through the air she wasn't certain he would stop. Only a few meters above them his wings shot out from his body and, almost instantly, he stopped falling. Looking rather pleased with himself, Saheer circled above them before heading off over the water.

Adria didn't bother waiting for the command to follow, she simply turned in the water and sped after the flygon. Alex clung to the lumineon's back, watching the water splash around them as they cut through the waves. She choked back a sob of relief, feeling for the moment that they might just be alright.

* * *

Beyond the incident with Kala, the rest of the crew's time at Pacifidlog Town passed quite uneventfully. Sketch had shaken off the incident and was more than happy that everything else had gone well. He was even happier that they could be done with the odd little town.

The small group of Sketch, Sean, Cedric, Janek, and Hurricane had left the floating town and were almost back at the ship. Sketch sat atop Hurricane, carefully watching the ropes that were wrapped around the mantine to pull the two barrels that floated along behind them. The rowboat had a heap of white material and a bag of different threads sitting in the front while the same two men rowed. Janek sat in the back, a burlap sack filled with baking he had received from his family resting on his lap.

Before them, a sleek, powerful ship sat anchored in the water. The sloop-of-war was a fully-rigged ship and an impressive ninety-five feet in length at her keel, and even longer on her upper decks. She looked to be in near perfect condition with the exception of the royal and topgallant sails that were currently dangling, shredded, from the main and foremasts, the ropes attached to them a tangled mess. The ship's dark brown wood panelling stood out against the bright sky and three large masts rose high above them. Near the front, scrawled into the side in silver, her name, _Sea Phantom_, was written.

They brought the rowboat up alongside the ship and watched as a rope ladder fell down to the water beside them. Ropes swung down from the railing above as well, each one hitting the water with a small splash.

Sketch untied the ropes from Hurricane and knotted them up to the new ones that had been dropped. He watched as the barrels were hauled effortlessly up the side of the boat before turning to help his crewmates.

Toward the front of the ship, a young woman scraped barnacles from the side of the hull, sleeves rolled up to reveal dark bronze skin to the warm sun. Perched on the back of her tentacruel, the sunlight glaring off its red orbs as its top half floated above the waterline, she appeared tiny. Spotting the new arrivals, she pocketed the old piece of steel she had been using to clean the sides of the ship and turned toward them.

A flash of red caught his eye, and he watched as a krabby surfaced from the water, climbing to the side of the ship as easily as if it were walking across a beach. A barnacle still clasped in one claw, it watched to make sure that the new arrivals weren't a threat before disappearing back under water to continue cleaning the ship.

Janek grimaced slightly at the approaching girl before turning and clambering up the rope ladder with his bag of goodies. Unlike many of the younger crew members, the older man had difficulty accepting the presence of women aboard his ship. And he truly did think of it as his ship, he had been aboard it longer than anyone else, even their current captain. When their captain had begun bringing more women aboard the ship he had fought tooth and nail, arguing that they were bad omens and would curse their fortune, competent or not. Despite all of his complaints, though, he chose to remain with the ship and simply ignored them when he could.

"Were you able to get everything?" the girl, Ragna, called out when she was closer. Her fingers tightened the immaculate knot of tiny, dark braids at the back of her head, her balance seated atop the jellyfish pokémon unaffected.

Hurricane allowed the current to carry her slowly away from the ship, taking Sketch with her. The gentle creature was putting distance between herself and the other water-type, preferring her own space. While she had to know the other water-type wouldn't attack her unless ordered, she almost always kept her distance. Sketch let her be, his new position on the water allowed him to monitor his crewmates better anyway.

"Sure did. If you'd help haul it up we can get started fixing those sails right away," Sean said.

"If you three can manage things down here, I'm going to get started organizing my new supplies," Cedric said, his hands already gripping the ladder.

With an approving nod from Sketch, Cedric began climbing up the side of the ship, hauling his large form over the railing. After he had disappeared, Sean pulled out a poké ball and released the pokémon contained inside. A pidgeot hovered above the rowboat, its powerful wings beating the air. Sean passed the bag full of threads to the flying type. The pidgeot disappeared over the deck's railing while Sean turned back to Ragna, waiting as she clambered from her tentacruel down into the rowboat.

While the two worked on getting the heap of white material onto the ship, Sketch set about tying the remaining ropes to the front and back of the rowboat so that it could be hauled up once they were done.

"I'm going to go see the captain," Sketch announced, grabbing onto the rope ladder. He glanced back at Hurricane, watching as she ducked under the surface of the water with a happy gurgle and disappeared under the ship. Unless they were attacked or the weather turned, he expected she would be fine on her own until the ship was ready to sail.

He clambered up onto the main deck and headed immediately toward the captain's quarters. There were two cabins accessible from the main deck, both located toward the aft, under the quarter deck, the deck that ran from the mainmast to the stern. Ducking and dodging around ropes and the few crew members currently topside, he approached the door on the starboard side. He rapped lightly on the door and waited for a response. A moment passed before he heard a faint voice coming from the other side saying, "Enter."

He pushed the door open and stepped into the spacious cabin. Half of it — the sleeping quarters — was hidden behind curtains, light from the windows on the other side leaking through the gaps in the material. The other half held a desk, several framed maps, many of the captain's treasures and trophies from past discoveries and conquests, and a long table with ten chairs around it that had, at one point in time, served as a meeting space for important guests. The entire room was a general theme of rich reds mixed with blacks and dark brown wood.

Lying beside the desk was a massive black pokémon. Large grey horns curled back from his head and Sketch was very aware of the sharp teeth hidden within his orange muzzle. Its red eyes had opened when the door did and remained fixed on Sketch, though it did not lift its head from its paws. Despite the houndoom's obvious type disadvantage at sea, he was still a terrifying sight, nor did he even seem to care that he was on a ship surrounded by water.

Sketch turned his gaze to the woman seated behind the desk. Quinn Greyson, the captain of the _Sea Phantom_. Her grey eyes were fixed on Sketch, and her expression was cool, giving nothing away. A dirty blonde braid was mostly hidden by a black silk bandana. The scar that laced itself up the right side of her olive-skinned face — a jagged line from the front of her ear up through her eyebrow and into her hair line — was not so well-hidden. It stood out harshly and turned what could have once appeared gentle into something intimidating.

Sketch bowed slightly, keeping his gaze averted. "Captain Greyson."

"What do you have for me?" she questioned, expression unchanging as she studied the boy before her.

Sketch served both as the captain's first mate and as the ship's quartermaster due to the small size of the ship's crew. He had only acquired the position less than a month earlier and was still growing accustomed to it. In his mind, the position just meant he was the captain's personal assistant. The ship itself was managed by their boatswain and he was fairly sure the master gunner had more power than he did. The increased respect in the way the crew treated him was a nice change, though. Even if that respect came from his new duty of divvying up loot. Despite being given the position, he couldn't help but feel intimidated around Captain Greyson. Her very presence was captivating.

"Kala gave me this letter," Sketch said, pulling the crumpled paper from his pocket. He flattened it out, noting the red droplets that stained the paper and the tears that were not unlike a ninjask's claws in shape. He laid it out on the desk before her and took a step back to wait.

After a quick look over the paper, Quinn glanced back up at him, the smallest hint of a smile touching the corner of her mouth. "Have the crew gathered on the main deck in ten minutes," she ordered, adding dismissively, "Now leave me."

Sketch turned and hurried from the cabin to do as he had been told.


	4. Chapter 3

The Canalave City library had been left in a state of disarray after the debacle with the illegitimate trainer and the city guards. Trapped in the illusion cast by the trainer's froslass, one of the guards had toppled over two bookshelves on accident while another smashed a table and tore the map that had been stretched over it. All three of the guards had told similar tales of finding themselves trapped on a mountain ledge alone, their limbs half-frozen and fingers blackened. When the froslass had left and the illusions broke, they had bolted from the building. Apologies had been made for the damage, but apologies did not fix broken bindings, torn maps, or trampled pages.

The harm caused had not ended with the contents of the library. The nineteen-year old archivist employed by the city to maintain the collections kept in the old building had been similarly unfortunate. Arriving back at the library, Ki had run directly into the trainer — or, more accurately, the trainer had run over Ki. The impact had sent him sprawling backward onto the hard stone walkway outside. A frail being, he was left with a fractured wrist and sprained ankle. The sudden drop in temperature from the passing froslass had chilled him to his very core.

After two weeks of bed rest, fever, and pain, Ki had been relieved when he was finally able to return to work. Time was precious, he hated to waste what little he had.

With his left wrist bound so tight that it was immobile, he was limited to working mostly one-handed. A little over a week of repair work had passed and his table was still covered in damaged books. He didn't even want to think about the torn map on his desk. Repairing a document so old was challenging enough with two good hands, and his mentor had not been around to guide him or help with any of the restorations.

Ki was one of two archivists. The other was Niles, a thin, silver-haired man with paper-like skin. Though Ki had never asked, he suspected his mentor must have been in his seventies. The man knew Sinnoh history better than anyone else Ki had ever met, or even heard of. When he told stories about the region's history and myths, he spoke almost as if he had been there himself.

When the incident with the trainer had occurred, Niles had been on leave visiting family. In the time between, he had not returned, and Ki had not heard from him in the last six days. In his last correspondence, Ki had brought up the map, looking for advice on how best to repair it. Niles' staravia had left with the letter, and there had been no sign of the starling pokémon since.

With both archivists gone, the building custodians had cleaned up and removed all the damaged articles themselves. Not knowing better, they had dumped everything on the table in the back office. It was a jumbled mess. Ki cursed them for what might have been the thousandth time as he pulled yet another loose paper from the pile.

The page contained a depiction of a fairy-like pokémon with two tails and a jewel on its forehead. The writing beneath the drawing, and continuing onto the back, spoke of the birth of emotion. There were countless books in the library — let alone on the table — that spoke of Mesprit and the other Lake Guardians. Countless books the page might belong to. Ki placed it gently on a different table set against the wall, doing his best to flatten it out where the corner had been crushed by a careless boot.

He flopped down in the chair at his desk with a sigh, rubbing at his sunken eyes. Under the desk, a small, orange creature stirred before falling back into a deep sleep, back paw twitching. He pulled his feet back so as not to disturb it again. His back ached, and his ankle felt stiff and too warm. The map sat before him, the great tear mocking him. Strands of white hair fell across his face as he bent over to dig through the bottom drawer of his desk. His fingers brushed against the small wooden box he was searching for, the rough engravings familiar.

Ki set the small box atop his desk and flipped the lid open. Inside, sitting on a bed of blue satin, were tiny, pastel green tablets. No two were identical, each shaped slightly different, some with burnt edges from baking too long. He plucked two from their nesting place and popped them into his mouth, washing the bitter tablets down with tea that had gone cold hours earlier.

Elbows on the desk, he rubbed at his temples and considered the workload before him. A fair number of easy repairs had kept him occupied through the morning. What had felt like a lot of books ready to return to the shelves seemed a lot smaller now, sitting at his desk where he could see the small stack and compare it to the pile that remained.

Another sigh escaped his lips. He had completed all he could do that day, the rest would have to wait until the next day, and the next days after that. As long as it took, it would eventually be completed.

He ducked under the desk and nudged the sleeping buizel awake. "Come on, Zel, time to go home."

Bright eyes blinked up at him. She rolled onto her back and stretched all the way out, jaws stretching into a wide yawn that displayed her sharp teeth. As Ki headed for the door, he could hear her paws hitting the ground as she bounded after him.

On the main floor, Ki was surprised to find a young, well-dressed man talking to the kid at the front desk. A strong jaw and short brown hair framed a handsome face. He didn't look much older than Ki, but bore the colours and crest of a Sinnoh naval captain. Not uncommon in Canalave City, but certainly a rare sight in the library. The kid he was talking to was a new part-timer, and he looked at a loss over whatever the man had asked him.

"What can we help you with, sir?" Ki approached the front desk, nodding his head respectfully at the captain as he came to a stop beside the kid.

"I'm looking for an archivist by the name of Niles, is he here?" The man glanced over Ki, presumably taking in his too-thin form, the unhealthy pallor of his skin, and the wrappings around his wrist. Ki knew what the man was seeing and ignored the look of pity that crossed his face. It was a look he had seen far too often.

"I'm sorry, but he's away from the city visiting family." Ki forced a smile, straightening his shoulders despite the protest from his tired muscles.

"Ah. And when do you expect him back?"

"I don't know his travel plans, but I expect any day now." Ki had expected Niles back days ago, but the captain didn't need to know that.

"I see. When he returns, send someone down to the naval office. Ask for me." At this, he paused, gave a slight bow, and introduced himself, "Lord Roric." He straightened before continuing, his brows pulling together as he grew more serious, "I need to speak with him as soon as he returns, it's urgent."

"Of course, my lord, you'll know the moment he's back." Ki could feel some of his energy returning, the ache in his muscles dissipating, replaced with a sense of numbness — his medicine finally taking effect.

Roric nodded at Ki, hand fishing around in a pocket of his coat. Pulling his hand from the pocket, he revealed a cookie-shaped treat that, bending down, he offered out to the buizel waiting patiently at Ki's side. Zel stretched forward tentatively, sniffing, before snatching the treat sitting on the man's palm. It was gone in seconds, and the small orange creature chirped happily, tail tips flicking.

Ki watched as Roric turned on his heel and left the old building without a second glance, wondering what in the world he could want with his mentor.

* * *

Home for Ki was a small, ornate manor west of Canalave City. The rapidash-drawn carriage he rode in followed the dirt road along the short stone walls surrounding the property before coming to the iron gates. The gates swung open at their approach, and the carriage continued up the drive to the house until it came to a stop before the steps leading up to the double doors.

Ki exited the carriage, Zel bouncing along at his side. The buizel darted off to the gardens adjacent to the house, to the pond hidden away in their centre. He would find her later, before the sun set for the night. Until then, she would be fine on her own.

The double doors swung open as his foot landed on the first step. "You're home! Perfect timing, dear," his mother called from the doorway, a mess of grey-and-dark blonde curls framing a round face as she poked her head around the door.

She ushered him inside the front hall, a flurry of activity as she helped him from his coat and circled him, checking that he was in much the same condition as he had been in that morning. She tipped his chin up with one hand, turning his head one way then the other.

"Look at you! You're working too hard, I wish you would at least consider shorter hours. Niles would understand, I'm sure of it." His mother dropped her hand away, pursing her lips.

"The hours are fine," Ki assured her, waving her away. "_I'm_ fine." It was always the same. If his parents had their way he was certain they would keep him locked up inside the house. They had outright threatened it after the last spell of illness. It had taken careful convincing to make them see that he needed to do something useful with his time.

She didn't look convinced as she offered an arm to him. "Your father and sister are just in the sitting room, supper will be shortly."

Ki accepted the offered arm with a nod and a small smile. If she noticed the way he put more weight on her than usual, she showed no sign of it.

In the sitting room, Ki's father sat with his face in a book, thinning black hair visible over the top of the cover. He lowered the book at their entrance, revealing a face not unlike Ki's. The same high cheekbones and slender nose set in the same thin face. Except, where Ki's skin was too-pale and his face drawn, his father's light skin was sun-kissed and his cheeks ruddy and warm. The glameow resting on his lap rose, circled, and curled back up with a small, satisfied huff. It's spiral tail flicked once before falling over the side of his leg.

"Have a seat, your sister has just gone to fetch her violin," Ki's father informed them, patting the settee cushion beside him. He set the book aside, resting his now-free hand on the purring glameow.

Ki took the seat beside his father, as directed, deflating into the soft cushions. The glameow lifted its head to look at him with narrowed eyes of yellow and blue. He gave her the scratch behind the ears she was always looking for and she laid her head down once more.

The room around them was well-decorated, paintings of stunning scenic views adorned the walls, and delicate pottery was spotted around the room between chairs and on tables. Woven blankets lay over every chair, more than enough to cover a room full of guests. In a corner beneath an open window lay a mountain of blue and black fur on a permanent bed of said blankets. What had once been nothing more than a small mound that would sit on any welcoming lap was now a fully-evolved luxray.

Ki's mother took the seat closest to the luxray, laying a blanket over her lap. "Have you heard from Niles yet, dear?" she questioned, fingers pulling at a loose strand.

"Nothing yet, I'm afraid. I'm beginning to worry, actually…" Ki replied, pulling the blanket from the back of the settee down and flattening it across his own lap.

"I'm sure he's fine." His mother offered him a small smile.

"Probably just avoiding the work created by that criminal. Nasty business, that was, and I hear they still haven't caught her," his father added, his expression turning into a frown.

"Tiernan—" his mother started, shooting her husband an angry look.

The door across the room slid open, cutting off whatever she had been about to say. Ki's sister, Annika, stepped in, followed by her kricketune and piplup. Her gaze narrowed as she took in the looks their parents were sharing. Without a word, she seated herself on the edge of the nearest chair, one hand holding her violin while the other straightened out the pleats of her skirt, deliberately taking her time.

When all eyes were on her, she looked up. She had inherited their father's straight, dark hair and his slender nose, while the roundness of her face and the olive tone of her skin were those of their mother's. Neither parent would take responsibility for her attitudes, though.

"Am I still to play this evening, or would you rather continue your discussion?" she questioned, voice dripping sarcasm.

"We would love to hear you play," Ki answered before their parents had the chance to speak, offering his sister a tired smile. He would not give them the opportunity to continue the argument they had been having for the last few weeks. While his father, Tiernan, continued to bring up the topic of the trainer and her crimes, his mother, Farrah, had insisted they not discuss such political matters, especially in front of the children — called such despite both being of adult age.

"Perfect." Annika beckoned to her cricketune, the red and black pokémon springing to her side.

While Annika positioned herself and her violin, her piplup waddled over to where Ki was sitting. He bent over and picked up the small, light-blue pokémon, its thick down coat invitingly soft and warm against his fingers. He set the piplup on his blanketed lap, where it chirped happily and sat with its back against his stomach.

When his sister was ready, the kricketune began to cry. The sound was deep and soft all at once, a simple melody pulled from its very core. Annika drew her bow across the strings of her violin, matching the cricket pokémon perfectly. Together, they played a long, sad tune that grew louder and faster, filling the room, before dropping away again.

As Ki listened, he felt himself sinking deeper into the cushions, slouching down against the steep back of the furniture. His eyelids grew heavy, and he eventually closed them, focusing only on the music.

Some time later — he couldn't be sure how much time had passed, though there was no longer any light coming through the windows — he felt someone gently shaking his shoulder. He blinked awake, finding himself stretched out on the settee with blankets wrapped around himself. Its only other occupant, his father's glameow, was curled up by his feet, fast-asleep. He looked up into his sister's face, at her soft smile, as she sat carefully on the edge of the cushion in front of him. There was no one else left in the room.

"You haven't been getting enough rest," she chastised him, voice nothing more than a whisper. "And I'm starting to sound like mother," she added quietly to herself with a shake of her head.

"I haven't missed supper, have I?" Ki asked groggily, ignoring his sister's concern.

"Dana made up a plate for you before she left for the evening, it's in the cold room when you're ready." She looked down at her skirts, smoothing them out with both hands.

"And mother and father?" He didn't need her to answer, he could hear muffled, raised voices coming from the next room.

There was a pause before Annika said anything. "Father doesn't want you going to the archives anymore." Her voice was quiet, and she didn't meet his gaze.

"It's dark, has someone brought in Zel?" He began to push himself up, teeth clenched against the stiffness that had settled over his muscles,

"I did, of course. She's asleep in your chambers." She turned toward him and pushed his shoulder down with one hand, easily forcing him back down onto the cushions. "Take it easy, would you?"

He gave her an angry look that she didn't see, but said nothing. His gaze turned up to the ceiling as he forced the scowl from his face, trying to take on the calm and composed look he often saw his mother use to hide her own frustrations when political topics came up. He couldn't do more than hope that he was successful.

_Tap tap tap_. The sound of a beak against glass came from the windows somewhere behind his head. Someone had closed them after he had fallen asleep.

Annika rose and drifted toward the windows, long skirts billowing around her. He could feel the cool breeze when she opened the window, and heard the sounds of flapping wings. Hope raced through his mind, followed by dizziness as he sat up too fast. He braced himself against the armrest, eyes closed, until the spinning had passed.

Perched in front of them was a staravia that he recognized. _Finally_. He offered a hand out to the greyish-brown pokémon. It hopped forward and dropped an envelope into his waiting hand.

Annika lit the candle on the table beside him and offered an arm to the staravia. It hopped up, grateful for rest, and she carried it from the room to fetch it food and water. When the door closed behind her, he tore open the envelope and read the letter inside.

_Dearest Kiernan,_

_Please accept our sincerest apologies for not writing to you sooner. Grandfather took ill some days ago, but insisted we were not to worry you. I write to you now because his condition has worsened. The doctors say it is the Winter Fever, though they assure us he will be well again soon enough._

_We are in Jubilife City, with Uncle Theodore. They say the doctors here are the best in the kingdom, if not the known world. They tell us that their medicines are the future. I should like to be as confident as they._

_Grandfather would most enjoy a visit from you, should you have the time and energy to spare a trip here. He misses reading his books and telling his stories._

_Hoping we see you here soon,_

_Millie_

Scrawled on the back were directions to Theodore's house in Jubilife City.

He read the letter once more, wanting to be certain he had read it right. It was worse than he had feared. The winter fever took many people every year, and Niles was not a young man.

When he rose to his feet, he had to steady himself, gripping the armrest once more as his body swayed. He had to steady himself mentally, too — his family would not like it when he told them he would be travelling to Jubilife City in the morning. He drew in a deep breath, preparing himself to walk through the door to the next room.


	5. Chapter 4

Gathering the crew had been easier than Sketch had expected. He had sent the two cabin boys down to the lower decks, where many of the crew were resting or working. That left only the main deck for Sketch to handle. The few sailors working topside had nodded agreeably, and Ragna, Sean, and the two sailmakers they were working with had been much the same.

With the main deck taken care of, he bounded up the stairs to the quarter deck. It was empty of people and pokémon, the helm of the ship currently unmanned while she was anchored. That left one last place for him to check for people. He ducked back down the stairs and turned sharply around the corner.

The navigation room on the port side, beside Captain Greyson's quarters, was rarely empty. Sketch swung the door open and stepped inside. Light flooded in from the windows, the entire back wall offering a nearly unbroken view of the ocean behind the ship. Shelves were anchored to the inside wall — the wall shared by the captain — and contained an assortment of old charts, maps, and books. A painting of the stars hung on one side of the door, and two hammocks hung in the corner on the other side. In the middle of the room stood a large table, a map stretched out across it and secured there with pins.

Standing over the table were Janek, a sleeping chatot perched on his shoulder, and the ship's sailing master, Connor. They both looked up when the door opened, the chatot chirping indignantly at the sudden commotion.

"What can we do for you, Sketch?" Connor questioned. The quiet words almost didn't reach Sketch's ears. Connor was a well-muscled man with close-cropped, curly black hair that was not much darker than his umber skin. He dressed well, better than most of the sailors under his command, today clad in a burgundy tunic and dark leather belt.

"Aye, we jus' got back, what could ye' possibly need." Janek had no trouble being louder than his companion. He raised a brow and cocked his head at Sketch, while the chatot on his shoulder repeated Janek's words in a sharp, sing-song voice.

Sketch rolled his eyes at Janek's words, addressing Connor when he answered, "Captain Greyson wants everyone on deck in a few minutes. Whatever you two are working on will have to wait."

Janek scowled at him, but had no more words to offer upon hearing his captain's name. Connor answered for both of them, "We will be there." He glanced back down at the map and up at Sketch again before adding, "You should come take a look at this before we go out there, though."

Sketch hesitated, the last thing he wanted was to be late on deck when the captain came out. Curiosity won over, though, and he stepped over to the table to stand beside Connor. "What am I looking at here?" he questioned, taking in the array of pins dotting the map before him. The map itself was of all the local regions and kingdoms, from the mainland and islands of Hoenn over to the archipelagos of the Orange and Sevii Islands, up to the greater mainland of Johto, Kanta, Fiore, and Almia. Even the southern half of the Sinnoh mainland appeared in the Northeast corner on the map.

Connor pointed to the small, hand-made mark on the map that represented Pacifidlog Town. "We're here now, but take a look at these pins," he instructed, his soft voice laced with concern. "Each of these represent the sighting of a Hoenn naval ship, fully armed. Even these along the greater mainland coast. We did our best to colour code individual ships, and used blue for the smaller ships of the fleet."

Sketch studied the pins, noting the number of them. He thought back to their recent routes through the ocean waters, and the towns and cities they had been near. There was a pattern forming on the table before them. Red pins that were of special concern.

Before he could comment, Janek offered his input. "Fer months now, the _Hoenn Ruby_ 'as been behind us e'ry step we've made. Now she's up an' gone." He pointed a bony finger at a red pin straight east of Ever Grande City, blue pins on either side of the red one.

"She had two corvettes with her, the HMS _Seaking_ and HMS _Mauville_. Last we heard, they were headed east, away from Hoenn. There's been no word on their whereabouts since," Connor continued, bracing his hands on the table edge as he stared at its contents.

"Ye' can see 'ere the _Jirachi_, since the _Ruby_'s dis'ppear'nce, she's been at our tail." Janek placed a finger beside a green pin.

Sketch recognized the spot as the place they had just narrowly escaped from only two weeks earlier, not far off the coast from Petalburg City. The HMS _Jirachi_ had nearly had them, the frigate overtaking them under the cover of night. Had it not been for Connor's skill at the helm and their captain's quick thinking, none of them might have escaped. Some of them hadn't.

The thought that it could have been the HMS _Hoenn Ruby_ that caught them, a ship of the line that dwarfed both the _Sea Phantom_ and the HMS _Jirachi_, sent a chill down his spine. Those that hadn't been left at the bottom of the sea would have hung for their crimes. The king would grant no pardons for pirates. No one would be spared from the gallows.

"Captain Greyson will want to see this," Sketch told them, expression pulled into a scowl as he considered the pins.

"Aye, we'll speak to her before we set sail again," Connor assured him.

Sketch pulled his gaze from the map and retreated back to the door. Connor and Janek followed behind him as he made his way back out onto the deck and into the sun.

Outside, much of the crew had gathered. They mingled on the main deck, a loose cluster of bodies. There had been close to three dozen men and women before the last attack, as well as their pokémon. Now, the ship's crew numbered just shy of thirty. Few had come away unscathed, many were wearing slings, bandages, or stitches courtesy of the ship's doctor, and one or two appeared to still be sporting makeshift crutches. On top of the human injuries, it had taken days to heal up all of the injured pokémon. It was fortunate they could be healed so much faster than humans.

The captain had not yet emerged from her quarters, much to Sketch's relief. As he walked by the two cabin boys, he paused long enough to toss each a gold coin for their troubles gathering the crew. The captain's door was swinging open as he climbed the steps up to the quarter deck. He stood back beside the ship's boatswain, Damian — the only other person permitted to be on the quarter deck during the captain's address.

Captain Greyson ascended the stairs to the quarter deck, the tri-cornered hat she now wore cast a shadow over her eyes. The red feather jutting out of the hat caught the sunlight just right, taking on an almost golden hue. Rumour on the ship was, the feather had come from the legendary pokémon Ho-Oh.

At the top of the stairs, Captain Greyson turned to look out at the small crowd. Her hands grasped the wooden railing on either side of her as she leaned out toward the crew below.

"Today, I learned why we've been subject to such frequent and ruthless attacks. I learned what our _king_"—at this, she paused to turn her head and spit—"has been busy with, and what his navy have been up to."

As her voice rang out over the ship and the open water beyond the crew watched in silence. Sketch and Damian stood at attention, having taken positions at the railing on either side of her.

"The king has ordered his men to sink the _Phantom_, and her crew with it. To send us to Kyogre's depths. He does not want us to know that his lands are sick. He does not want us to know that the plant life on the mainland has been dying, or that pokémon have become aggressive, attacking human settlements." Her voice rose as she spoke, strengthened by the rapt crowd below. "He does not want us to know that glory and riches await the crew that finds a cure for his lands. He wants us to _disappear_ so that he does not have to pardon us for the crimes he has charged us with. But we will be the ones to find his cure. We will have our _freedom_ — his glory, his riches, his _pardon_!" She raised one fist into the air above her head.

Below, the crowd erupted. Sailors slapped their mates on the shoulder while others whistled and shouted and stomped their feet. Somewhere in the crowd, one man shouted, "Sink the king." Another shouted the reply, "For glory and greatness." All around, the crew took up the words in a chant, drowning out the sounds of the sea around them with their fervour.

Sketch glanced sideways to see the wicked grin that darkened his captain's face. The light caught her eyes as she lifted her head to look at the sky above them. For the briefest moment, her eyes were those of a predator recognizing its prey as cornered.

A cloud passed over the sun, and the look was gone.

* * *

When the excitement had finally passed, the captain had chosen a handful of the crew to join her for counsel. At the news that Connor and Janek had information for her, she had gathered them all in the navigation room rather than at the table in her office.

Sketch lingered near the windows at the back of the room, looking out over the sea below as waves broke against the hull of the ship and a flock of wingull circled farther out. Connor and Janek were back at the map table, pointing out their findings to the captain. Damian stood beside her, listening in silence, the gold hoops in his ears shifting when he tilted his head.

Pacing behind them was the master gunner, Victor. His black hair fell in plaits down his back and his long beard was similarly plaited, dark amber beads adorning the ends. Scars laced the light skin that was visible, and he wore a permanent scowl upon his face. Whether or not he was actually listening to Connor and Janek, no one could say for sure and no one dared to ask.

Captain Greyson stood quietly for a time as she considered what her navigator and sailing master had told her. No one dared to break the silence, not even the chatot that still clung to Janek.

"So he's sent the _Ruby_ to find his cure, I suppose, and tasked the _Jirachi_ — maybe others — with handling us." When Captain Greyson finally spoke, the words were quiet, contemplating.

"It lines up," Damian agreed. "What's our move, then? The _Jirachi_ is a fast ship."

Sketch looked back at that, gaze landing on Damian. The boatswain had served alongside Captain Greyson longer than anyone else on the ship. A short, burly man, he had spent more years at sea than anyone else on the ship besides Janek. The _Sea Phantom_ would not be half the ship without his keen eye.

"We sail for Lilycove City. If we anchor to the north we can avoid most eyes. There's someone there that I believe can point us in the right direction." A half-smile pulled at Captain Greyson's lips as she studied the pins, her mind somewhere other than her ship.

"Lilycove is always busy with wannabe trainers. We need to replace the gunners we lost." Victor's voice was rough — almost raspy — when he spoke. His pacing stalled as he turned to address the captain.

"Good point. When we arrive at the city, you will take a party ashore as well, see what you can find." Captain Greyson turned to meet Victor's gaze with her own, head held high as she regarded the heavily scarred man before her. "No liabilities."

"No liabilities," he repeated in his raspy voice, nodding his head. His concerns addressed, he returned to his pacing.

"We'll visit the Isles when we're done at the city. We should be able to find you some new sailors there," Captain Greyson told Connor and Damian, turning back to the table.

"Aye, it's a plan." Damian's mouth turned up into a small smile as he looked across the table at Connor.

"When will the ship be back at top form," Sketch questioned, leaving the windows to stand closer to his crewmates.

"Sean assures me the sailmakers will have the replacement sails ready by evening. They're the final item left, then she'll be perfect once more." Damian ran his hand over the table edge as he spoke, his gaze drifting to the door out to the main deck.

Captain Greyson turned toward the door, pausing for a moment to glance back. "I want this ship sailing now, we can waste no time with the _Jirachi_ after us."

"Aye, captain," Connor and Damian echoed, but the door was already closing behind her.

Janek spread his arms wide, speaking for the first time since they had returned to the room. "Ye' 'eard the cap'n, lads, get ye're selves out there."

"Aye, lads, aye," the chatot on his shoulder agreed, flitting down to the table as it chirped at them. Its beady eyes followed them to the door, watching their backs as they left the music note pokémon and Janek alone to determine their best course.

"Can't stand that old bird," Sketch heard Victor mutter under his breath. The prickly master gunner crossed the deck away from him while Connor disappeared up to the quarter deck and Damian went to gather the crew.

Meanwhile, Sketch headed for the ship's railing. If they were to set sail he would need to recall Hurricane from the waters below. It did them no good to wear their pokémon out following the ship if they didn't need to. He leaned precariously over the side and whistled, three sharp bursts. At first, there was nothing, then he saw the bubbles and the dark outline of his mantine's wide fins as she left the shadows of the ship and neared the surface.

"There's my girl," he called down to her when she surfaced, water foaming over her fins. She cooed back at him before returning to her poké ball in a flash of red light.

Behind him, the ship had burst to life as sailors and their pokémon unfurled sails, tightened ropes, and brought up the anchor. Aipom and mankey scaled the masts while machoke and ursaring wrestled with heavy lines and chains on the main deck, and pidgeot and swellow released the highest sails in the skies above. All manner of pokémon and humans working together.

With Hurricane safely tucked away in her poké ball, Sketch took his place on the quarter deck. Connor stood at the helm, prepared to take the wheel the moment Damian called out that the _Phantom_ was ready to sail. Captain Greyson stood at the stern, her houndoom seated comfortably beside her as she looked out at the activity of her ship.

Sketch leaned against the railing beside the stairs, watching as a vigoroth set the lines of the driver sail over their heads. Its rapid movements were hard to follow, and eventually he looked away.

Damian bounded up the stairs, an aipom clinging to his neck. "Anchors aweigh, captain," he shouted over the noise around them.

"Time to set course." Captain Greyson's words to Connor were carried on the wind up to Sketch's position at the railing.

Connor took the wheel and the ship was moving. Lilycove City would soon be in their sights.


	6. Chapter 5

Alex dragged herself up onto the rocky shore, Saheer braving the cool, wet shallows to help her. They had made it. Somehow, Saheer and Adria had gotten her to land. She had never been more grateful to feel rocks digging into her skin and dirt under her nails. She had never been more grateful for her pokémon.

Numb hands reached for Adria's poké ball at her belt. Her shaking fingers fumbled at the clasp holding it in place, missing at first and then too weak to undo it when she did catch it. She groaned and flopped back against the smooth stones, blinking up at the darkening sky and cursing.

Saheer leaned over her, head cocked to the side as he looked down at her with a puzzled expression. He snorted slightly, his form retreating as he moved out of range of the waves lapping at the rocks around her. Somewhere behind her, she heard him settle onto the ground with a soft sigh.

They had survived. The reality of it hit Alex harder than she had expected. She closed her eyes tight, but the tears came anyway. They caught at the corners of her eyes, pooling there before tipping over and running down to her ears. She grabbed a corner of her shirt to wipe them away, forgetting for a moment that everything she owned was already soaked through with salty water. She laughed then, a hollow, gasping kind of laughter that turned into a sob in the next breath. Gasping for air, she rolled over and pushed herself up to her knees, bent over with her palms braced against the ground.

There wasn't enough air. Another sobbing gasp.

The tears fell freely now, splashing against the damp ground between her hands. Ground that could have been anywhere, anyplace. They were completely and utterly lost.

She breathed in sharply. Wondered if her lungs weren't working. Still not enough air.

Her bags and belongings were back in Canalave City. All she had were the clothes on her back and her pokémon companions. They had no coins, no food, no drink.

Another gasp, the tears forgotten now. _Why was there no air?_

In front of her, Saheer was growling. Her mind processed the noise in between her gasping breaths, straining to make sense of it over the cacophony of her thoughts and desperation. The noise gave her pause, forgetting for a moment about the air she could not breathe. Her head lifted, gaze flicking up to where Saheer now crouched directly in front of her, wide eyes meeting hers. The growl paused, as did her gasps.

His tail flicked and he straightened up, pleased to have gained her attention. His wings fluttered lightly, not enough to lift him off the ground or truly stir the sand, but enough that if she listened hard enough she could catch a soft melody carried on the air that had suddenly returned.

One last tear tracked its way down her face as she sat back on her heels, keeping her gaze and focus on Saheer in front of her. Her flygon looked back at her, wings slowing.

Her body ached and her muscles protested, but she rose to her feet. Her first shaky step nearly took her straight back to the rocky ground below. Saheer slipped forward to crouch beside her, catching her weight when she stumbled, ignoring the water that lapped at his paws. He held her weight while she fumbled again at her belt for Adria's poké ball. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she managed to unclip it.

Behind them, Adria watched from the water, having used her fins to climb as shallow as she was safely able. Light pulsed from her fins, bright in the growing darkness, and she cooed happily when she saw Alex standing. Alex offered the lumineon a weak smile before returning her to the relative safety of her poké ball. She looked down at the dark blue ball in her hands and whispered a silent thank you.

The setting sun would soon leave them in complete darkness. They needed shelter — fast — and food if they were lucky. Relying more on Saheer's strength than her own, they walked toward the grass at the edge of the beach, toward the rocky outcropping and thick forest that lay beyond that.

* * *

The sun had set hours earlier, leaving Alex and Saheer in darkness. With none of her supplies available to her, she had done her best to light a fire with the driest sticks she could find and had failed miserably. With no fire, they sat in a shallow hollow that had formed at the base of one of the cliff-like rock formations near the beach. Thick sand and broken rock made up a less-than-comfortable bed.

Still wearing her wet clothes, Alex was grateful for the strange climate that they had found themselves in. Had they been back home, she was sure she would not have made it through the night without a fire. Here, though, the night air was humid and the temperature never dropped to an uncomfortable level so long as she stayed out of the wind. Clouds had blown over not long after sunset, and there had been periodic rain showers that kept them from venturing far from their hiding place.

A handful of berries each had taken the edge off their hunger, but she could hear both their stomachs grumbling. Saheer had managed to drift off to sleep, but Alex could not rest no matter how hard she tried. Curled up against Saheer's side, his tail draped over her, her mind was a jumbled, tired mess.

Thoughts of home were at the forefront. Memories of the warmth of the fireplace in her small childhood home called to her, herself wrapped in soft blankets as she traded stories with her mother. She could have been there, had she chosen any other path for her life. Instead, she lay on a gritty dirt bed in wet clothes with no idea as to where she was. Outside their small hiding place, the sky weeped for their fate.

When exhaustion finally pulled her under, her sleep was dreamless. A herd of hippowdon could have thundered by and she would not have woken. It wasn't until sunlight poured into their small shelter that she came to, disoriented and dizzy.

Alex stumbled out of their hiding place, muscles she didn't realize she had were aching. Blinking against the bright sun, she took in her surroundings.

"Right," she breathed, the events of the previous day flooding back to her.

Beside her, Saheer stretched out, tail lashing and wings folding out from his body. Bright eyes met hers, and she wished for a moment that she had his strength.

A flock of wingull soared over their heads. They scattered in all directions when they spotted Saheer below, his wings stretched out as if to fly. Further off, hidden away among the dense brush and tightly-packed trees that clawed at the sky, came the sounds of pokémon moving about and enjoying the cool morning.

She met Saheer's gaze and sighed, "Go on, then." She waved in the general direction of the regrouping wingull.

Without hesitation, the flygon took off. Red trimmed wings carried him quickly through the air, close to the ground. Dirt whipped up around him, masking his approach as a particularly suspicious gust of wind. The wingull didn't see him coming until he was bursting through the middle of the flock.

Alex turned away, her own stomach growling as she surveyed the nearby plant life. Growing not far from the beach, she was relieved to find a few familiar plants. In that moment, nothing looked better than the berries growing on them.

As she pulled a razz berry down from one of the smaller trees, Saheer reappeared, clutching a prize from his hunt. He offered it out to her, looking very pleased with himself. As hungry as she was, the thought of raw wingull turned her stomach, and she held up the large red berry in her hands to show him she was fine. He gave her a disappointed look before wandering away to find a perch in the sun.

When Alex was satisfied that she had enough berries to sate her hunger for the remainder of the morning she called Saheer back to her. Together, they followed the water line south. They alternated between flying — Alex clinging to Saheer's back — and walking to preserve the flygon's energy. With Saheer at her side, most of the wild pokémon kept their distance as they travelled.

* * *

Despite not knowing where they were, Alex was certain they were making progress. As she and Saheer had continued down the coast through the afternoon, the brush inland had started to thin, the trees no longer scraped the sky, and every so often she had spotted open, grassy hilltops.

Bodies aching and stomachs grumbling, they had stopped on the beach for supper. The rocks had gradually given way to soft sand. With her boots off, the sand was surprisingly comfortable, the warmth from the sun soothing as she dug her toes in deeper. Unlike the previous night, she had succeeded in finding dry kindling and nursing a flame. The fire that burned before her was small, but it had been enough to cook a small supper courtesy of Saheer's hunting.

Alex popped a leppa berry into her mouth, savouring the burst of flavour as her teeth cracked the soft skin. She would not have chosen to be there, but, in that moment, she was not entirely disappointed either.

"Saheer," she called, watching the flygon as he rolled in the warm sand on the other side of the fire.

He perked up, pausing mid-roll to raise his head and gaze at her through the red covers that protected his eyes. Alex laughed lightly as sand streamed down the front of his face. She grabbed another leppa berry from her small pile and tossed it at him. Saheer scrambled upright before the berry had even travelled half the distance between them. He snatched the small red-and-yellow berry from the air easily, humming happily as he munched on it.

The humming cut off, and Alex watched as Saheer straightened up, eyes focused on a point somewhere over her shoulder. She twisted around in the sand to see what he was looking at, but found nothing there.

"What's got your attention," she breathed, gaze searching for something, anything, in the shadows of the trees.

Saheer brushed against her shoulder as he bounded around the fire to stand beside and slightly ahead of her. The tip of his tail flicked in the sand, and, though his muscles were tensed and bunched, he was not growling.

Alex let out a breath of air she hadn't realized she had been holding. The flygon beside her looked prepared to react, but there was nothing aggressive in his expression. She recognized what she thought was a mixture of nerves and curiosity in the crook of his head and the glint in his eye.

Moments passed before she heard what had caught Saheer's attention. His sensitive hearing had picked up a steady, off-beat thudding sound coming from the direction of the trees. The ground began to tremble as the sound grew louder and closer. They had seen plenty of pokémon throughout the day, but they had been smaller, disappearing into the brush when they had approached. Some she had recognized — the roselia and wurmple that moved among the trees, and the wingull and psyduck that lingered along the edges of the ocean — and even more she didn't think she had ever seen before. And whatever was drawing closer to them now was far larger than anything they had seen yet.

A head wrapped in leaves followed by a long neck emerged from the foliage. As it moved further out of the cover of the trees the rest of its bulky body appeared, chest wrapped in more leaves while even larger leaves lay flattened against its back. The ground shook every time its wide feet stepped upon the ground.

A tropius, she was certain of it.

Her mouth parted as she watched more emerge from the forest behind the first. There had to be half a dozen walking past their spot on the beach. She knew there were tropius in Sinnoh, though she had never discovered where. There had been one trainer she had faced that had possessed one of the large creatures. It had put up a strong defence, but her froslass had been persistent and efficient.

Saheer leaned forward beside her, head bobbing gently as he watched each one pass by the beach. The first of the tropius that had emerged disappeared into the next copse of trees, vanishing as quickly as it had come.

Toward the back of the herd, a smaller tropius took notice of the girl and the flygon on the beach. Its neck twisted around as it turned its head to meet their gazes. Saheer straightened up to his full height, the tip of his tail flicking in the sand once more.

The small tropius hesitated, letting out a noisy puff of air that made the leaves on a nearby branch flutter. The rest of the herd seemed to notice them then. Heads turned to look at the beach and its lone occupants. All but the small tropius at the back continued walking, the pounding of their heavy feet remained steady.

The girl and the flygon on the beach were not a threat, not to an entire herd of such large creatures, and they knew it.

All but the last tropius disappeared back into the brush. The small one that lingered turned to face them, stepping closer and closer until it reached out its head until it was close enough Alex could have reached out and touched it. The leaf-covered pokémon drew in a deep breath, smelling them, before releasing it all at once. Alex closed her eyes against the warm air, feeling her short hair waving wildly around her face.

When Alex opened her eyes again, Saheer was no longer beside her. The flygon was circling around the tropius on all fours, humming quietly to himself. The tropius craned his head around to watch him. As Saheer came around the tropius' other side, the large green leaves on its back flared out, sending the flygon tumbling away. The larger pokémon stomped his front feet and tossed his head, the look on his face full of mischief.

Saheer rolled to his paws, standing up to his full height, and stretching just a little bit more in an attempt to stand taller than the tropius. His wings stretched out to help him balance as he nearly stumbled.

Alex put a hand to her face and shook her head at the sight. If anyone else had been around to watch the odd sight she might have been a bit embarrassed, but seeing the pair of pokémon investigate each other was nothing if not entertaining.

The tropius straightened out his neck, bringing his head up high enough that his eyes were level with the top of Saheer's head. Those same eyes narrowed, and the great leaf-like wings on his back began to beat. The grass around him flattened out with the increasing strength of each stroke, and the large creature's feet began to lift from the ground.

Saheer reeled back, eyes going wide as the tropius flew over his head and narrowly avoided the top of a tree as he soared over it. The flygon glanced back at Alex and, when she nodded her head at him, he took off after the larger pokémon, his lithe body cutting through the air far faster.

Alex sat back, craning her head to watch as the two pokémon climbed through the sky overhead. The tropius appeared unfazed as Saheer darted past him and wheeled around him, showing off his speed and agility.

It wasn't until Alex noticed the sun beginning to sink below the tops of the trees that she called Saheer back, kicking herself for staying in the same spot so long. She had hoped they would be starting to see signs of civilization before the sun set and they had to spend another night in whatever shelter they could find.

Saheer landed hard, bounding forward across the ground to come to a sliding stop in the sand beside Alex. The remains of the fire that had been burning earlier was hidden by the small mountain of sand he had created.

"Was that fun?" Alex asked, brushing a hand down Saheer's warm neck, the scales rough against her hand.

The flygon was nearly bouncing on his paws. How he had so much energy still she could not understand. If she could share even a small amount of his energy, she thought she might be unstoppable.

"It's time we got moving again," she informed him, sliding her sand-encrusted boots back on and collecting the small bundle of berries that had remained from supper.

Overhead, the tropius circled and disappeared over the treetops, presumably to rejoin its herd. The grace with which it moved through the sky had been astonishing, she would never have believed it had she not seen it with her own eyes.

Rejuvenated, Alex and Saheer continued their journey along the shoreline. They did not see or hear the herd of tropius again as they walked. It seemed they had headed further inland, away from the shore. They had been a welcome distraction from the trials of the past weeks.

The sun was setting and the last rays of daylight beginning to disappear from the sky when they reached civilization. They crested a hill and found themselves overlooking a maze of dirt roads lit with flickering oil lamps. On her left she could see docks that extended as far as her eye could see in the growing darkness, tiny people she could only just make out from her distance still moving about among the ships and buildings.

Alex ran a hand through her short hair, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as she looked out over the unfamiliar city. Where there were buildings and people, there had to be supplies and proper shelter.

A gust of wind hit her back, but before she had a chance to look for its source there was a loud _thud_ behind her. The ground shook with the force of it. She whirled around to face their attacker, her feet catching on a patch of uneven ground and sending her sprawling sideways.

Eyes wide, she looked up into the equally wide eyes of the tropius they had met earlier. He tilted his head as he watched her, bringing his snout close to her face.

"Arceus' sakes, you gave me a fright," she chastised between deep breaths. Her heart was pounding faster than an anxious jolteon, and she had to focus to stop the shaking of her hands.

The tropius nudged her shoulder gently with his head, while Saheer chirruped excitedly behind her. She glanced back at the flygon and he quieted immediately, though the gleam in his eyes remained.

"Well… Can't say I ever thought I'd see you again," she informed the tropius as she scrambled to her feet. She extended a hand slowly toward the large pokémon, watching for any sign that he was going to spook. When he didn't move, she placed her palm against the leathery skin of his neck, just behind his head.

Her other hand reached behind her back, grasping at empty air. No pack. No empty poké balls. Nothing. Her supplies forgotten in Canalave City.

Alex let her hand drop and turned back toward the city that lay before them, the lamps now the only source of light. Her shoulders slumped, she wanted nothing more than to sleep in a proper bed and let her weary muscles rest. Swearing under her breath, she began picking her way down the hillside, stepping as carefully as she could.

She reached the bottom of the hill without breaking an ankle. All she had to do was walk around the side of the building she found herself behind, and she would truly be back in civilization. Behind her, she could hear the familiar sounds of Saheer, and the less familiar stomping footsteps of the tropius that had followed them.

"We made it, Saheer," she whispered, running a hand along his neck as he came to stand beside her. "Thank you," she added, pulling out his poké ball and recalling him. Only the tropius was left. With no way to catch him she would just have to keep going. Surely when she entered the city he would return to the wilderness.

Much to her surprise, the heavy footsteps continued to follow her as she stepped into the light cast by the oil lamps lining the street. Even more of a surprise, she found she was pleased that he was still following after her.

They passed few people as they walked down the dirt roads. The people that they did pass cast strange looks at the girl and her tropius-shaped shadow. The large pokémon did not seem fazed by his new surroundings, at least, not outwardly. Perhaps people and their structures were not as foreign to him as she had assumed.

Alex led them in the direction she thought would take them to the docks. It was hard to tell in the unfamiliar city with the sun already long gone. For all she knew, she could have been walking in circles.

When they finally emerged at the docks, they found that there were still a small number of people out and about. A few shops were even still open along the road running by the waterline, lamplight shining out through open doorways and windows.

"Stay here. Please?" Alex pleaded, turning to the tropius standing in the shadows behind her and holding up both hands, palms toward the large pokémon. She could only hope that he would understand the meaning of her words and gestures.

With one last look over her shoulder, she turned out onto the road. Her eyes scanned the buildings she passed, keeping her pace controlled so as to draw as little attention as possible. She had no idea where she was going, but, if the city was anything like many she had visited in Sinnoh, there would be places selling poké balls scattered all over the place.

Her suspicions proved correct when she passed by a window display of colourful poké balls. She slowed as she passed the building, considering her options. She had no money or anything of value, which meant no buying. There had appeared to be only one person inside. It wouldn't be hard to over power them with the help of her pokémon. If she did that, though, she'd become a wanted criminal in this region as well as her own and be on the run all over again.

Or, she could just keep going and forget about the tropius altogether. Something about that option didn't sit quite right with her.

Alex ducked into the shadows between two buildings, leaning against the wall and running a hand through her hair. The dirty strands remained slicked back and her hand came away feeling greasy, reminding her that she probably looked as filthy as she felt. With her crusty, sand-encrusted clothes and dirt-streaked skin, anyone that actually looked at her would assume she was a beggar or thief or both.

With a small sigh, she pulled a poké ball from her belt. She had hoped she would have a better handle of their situation before calling out anyone but Saheer, but she was out of reasonable options.

The froslass that emerged from the poké ball made no noise, she simply floated before Alex. Skadi's crystal-blue eyes studied her, taking in the layer of grime that seemed to cover every inch of her, expression unchanging. Alex felt her cheeks burn with the shame of it all. Only weeks earlier, she had been at the top of her game, champion-level competition had been within their grasp. Oh, to think of how far she had fallen.

Alex sighed and took a deep breath to steady herself before explaining what she would need Skadi to do.

When they turned back out onto the road, Alex felt only slightly less horrible about her situation. At the very least, Skadi was still at her side, her loyalty had not yet wavered from her dishevelled trainer.

The door to the shop opened with a quiet creak. The lighting was dim, and there was still only one person in the room. They stood at the back and did not turn when the door opened. What she had failed to notice when she walked by the first time was the large grey-and-black mound of fur laying beside the counter. The mighyena's side rose and fell as it slept. She had only ever seen one before, in the possession of a trainer.

Skadi could forget half of her skillset for how useful it would be against the large dark-type.

Had Alex not been terrified of waking up the furry creature she would have cursed. Instead, she held her breath, praying silently to every legendary beast she knew of that the floors wouldn't creak and the mightyena wouldn't wake.

Stepping slowly and carefully, she crept over to the nearest poké ball display. Behind her, Skadi's blue eyes glowed, her attention focused on keeping the store worker unaware of their presence. Alex grabbed the most basic-looking poké ball on the table, a plain blue device, hoping it was worth less than its more ornate counterparts. Her stomach flipped as she pocketed the smooth ball, and she turned back to the door.

As her hand found the door handle, the quiet in the room was broken by a long, deep growl. Bumps formed along her arms, the fine hairs standing on end. She did not dare turn around. She did not need to look to know that the mightyena was awake.

Concentration broken, the glow around Skadi's eyes vanished and she whirled to follow Alex as she slammed open the door and scrambled out of the shop. Finally aware of the thief, the shop worker yelled after them, his words cut off by the mightyena's howl.

"Hit it with blizzard the moment it comes through that door," Alex cried out, not turning to look back as she ran down the road as fast as her feet would carry her. She heard a surprised yelp, followed by angry howling. Skadi wouldn't be able to do much more than slow the dark-type down. She had to hope that would be enough.

Alex took a sharp turn, racing down alleyway after alleyway. She dared a glance back before the buildings blocked her view, saw the twisted, jagged smile formed by Skadi's mask as she buried the mightyena with another blast of icy snow. Both pokémon disappeared from view, blocked by brick walls.

When she could no longer hear the furious cries of the store worker or his pokémon, she stopped, leaning against the nearest wall and releasing a breathy laugh. She bent over, hands on her knees as she tried to calm her breathing. Her heart was pounding, and she could feel the ache returning to her tired muscles as the adrenaline passed.

The chase through Canalave City had been similar, she had recalled it all far more vividly than she would have liked. There was one very important difference, though. The shop worker hadn't seen her face. By the time the mightyena would start tracking her down by scent — if they even bothered to search for her at all — she would be long gone and no one would know it was her that had stolen the poké ball.

The air temperature around her dropped as Skadi reappeared, her mask still twisted into the smile she had seen earlier. The froslass twirled in the air once before stilling, hovering before her.

"I'm really not sure where I'd be without you," Alex breathed, straightening up and resting the back of her head against the rough wall.

Skadi showed no sign of acknowledgement, she merely turned in the air and glided down the alleyway. Alex pushed away from the wall and ran after her, taking the lead. They had a tropius to find.


	7. Chapter 6

The announcement that Ki would be travelling to Jubilife City had much the same effect as setting a wild pokémon loose in the middle of the house: there was a lot of shouting, and tempers flared. Despite telling them the topic was not up for discussion — he was an adult, after all, and could make his own decisions — his family insisted on discussing the topic anyway.

Ki had quickly retreated to his chambers, where the voices were muffled and he could not make out the words being said. There, he had found Zel sleeping, stretched out across his bed. In the corner, resting in a nest of pillows and blankets, was his first — and only other — pokémon. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than a cloud-like mound of fluff, until he entered the room and the altaria had raised his head.

"Hope you had a better day than I, Blue." Ki kept his voice low so as not to disturb Zel's sleep.

Blue hummed quietly back at him. Ki hoped it was an agreement that his day had been better.

At his approach, Blue shifted over, making room among the pillows and blankets for Ki to sit. Careful not to crush any feathers, Ki seated himself on a pillow next to the altaria, welcoming the comfort of the soft feathers of his wings as Blue leaned against him.

When Ki had been no more than five years of age, before sickness dominated his life, his mother had come home from one of her many trips with a gift for him. He had unwrapped the small package to find a poké ball. The young boy back then, with dreams of becoming a champion-class pokémon trainer, had been over-whelmed with excitement. He had cried tears of joy when his mother directed him to open it, and he found that it was, in fact, already occupied.

The swablu that had emerged had been startled at his excitement, wary of the small child with the poké ball. His mother had walked him through how to approach his new pokémon, helped them to forge a friendship and learn to work together. Years had passed since then, and much had changed.

"Do you remember Niles?" Ki asked absent-mindedly. Whether or not Blue understood the words did not matter, the words blocked the muffled sounds of the argument happening elsewhere. "The silver-haired man with the wonderful stories? Well, we're going to visit him tomorrow. He has a great number of family, I think you'll like them."

Ki was in the middle of telling Blue about each of Niles' family members, the ones he had met and the ones he had only heard about, when the door opened. He stopped mid-sentence, both he and Blue looking over to see who had entered. The rooms beyond were quiet, he realized he could no longer hear any muffled arguing.

Annika stepped lightly into the room, eyes searching around before finally landing on the spot where Ki sat. "Do you mind if I come in?" The smile she offered him was tired, forced.

"Not at all. Please," Ki replied, gesturing toward the chair at his desk.

She ignored the chair, instead opting for the edge of the bed. Zel lifted her head as Annika sat down beside her, blinking blearily up at her. The buizel chirped happily as Annika pulled her up onto her lap.

"Is it over?" Ki asked, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against Blue's shoulder.

"For now." Annika hesitated, perhaps waiting for him to say something. "Is it really such a good idea to visit Niles while he is ill?" she finally blurted out, voice soft and unsure.

"Niles has the winter fever, Annika, I can't just sit here and fret over whether or not I'll ever see him again. Illness be damned." He ran a hand through the soft feathers of Blue's wing, willing himself to hold his composure.

A longer pause. "Well, I suppose you should know that father and I will be accompanying you, he has business in the city."

"And they don't want me left on my own," he finished for her, opening his eyes to look across at her.

Annika did not meet his gaze, focusing her attention on Zel instead. Her dark hair screened her face so he could not see her expression when she spoke again. "You're becoming reckless, baby brother."

"And now you're starting to sound like father," he shot back, voice flat.

Annika looked up at this, hair falling back to reveal red cheeks and eyes that burned with anger at the accusation. "You know I don't mean to. Just… Well… This last scare…" She trailed off, looking back down at her hands as they smoothed Zel's fur.

Ki sighed, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was exhausted. The last thing he wanted in that moment was to start another argument. Annika was just concerned about him because she cared. If the roles were reversed he wasn't sure he would be much different than her. "I haven't gotten to hear about your day, yet," he pointed out, hoping she would go along with the change of topic.

His sister glanced up with a small smile, the red fading from her cheeks. "I suppose you're right. You fell asleep before I had the opportunity to regale you with today's events."

Ki smiled, relaxing against Blue as he listened to Annika tell him about the trouble her piplup had gotten into that morning in the pantry.

* * *

The trip to Jubilife City had been quiet and uneventful. Ki dared not break the silence, lest his father should decide against the whole endeavour and have the driver turn their carriage around. Annika had buried herself in a book, and their father had not said much since breakfast, when he explained to them all that the lady he would be meeting with had recently inherited the coal mines that supplied Canalave City. As one of Canalave City's minor lords, it was one of Tiernan's duties to meet with the city's business partners. Ki's attention had slipped when he started talking about renegotiating contracts, thoughts turning back to Niles' condition. The sooner they arrived at Lord Theodore's house, the better.

When the carriage came to a stop in front of an impressive stone building, Ki breathed a sigh of relief. Annika stepped out of the carriage first, offering a hand to help Ki as he followed her out.

"I should be back for you both in two hours," Tiernan informed them, leaning out of the carriage as he addressed his children.

"Thank you, father." Ki glanced back at his father, nodding. "Good luck with your meetings."

Annika waved him off, waiting for the team of rapidash to pull the carriage away before turning back to Ki. "Shall we?" She swept her arm out, gesturing toward the front door.

Together, they walked down the cobblestone path to the archway that framed the door. Annika raised her hand to rap the door knocker three times, the brass garchomp head holding it in place stared back at them while they waited for someone to come to the door. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Ki straightened his collar and stood taller.

"Ki!" the tiny girl on the other side cried out upon opening the door and finding the two siblings on the front step. "I am _so_ glad you could make it!" She stepped forward, pulling him into a hug that was stronger than her small frame would have suggested her capable of. Before anyone could respond, she stepped back and turned her gaze on Annika. "And you must be Ki's sister, I've heard so much about you."

"Oh… Ah— yes, I am," Annika managed to choke out as she was pulled into a hug. "Annika," she added as the girl released her. She glanced down, smoothing out the pleats of her dress and hiding the blush of cheeks.

"Millie, it is wonderful to see you again," Ki added, returned Millie's warm smile.

"Do invite them in, Millie dear," a voice called from the room beyond the door.

"Of course, how rude of me. I am so sorry. Please, come in." Millie gave them a sheepish look as she stepped aside to allow them through the door, closing it behind them.

The room they had stepped into was a two-storey foyer with stairs at either end curving up to a balcony, the dark blue railing stood out brilliantly against the off-white walls. Situated below the balcony were a set of glass double-doors, open to a sitting area that appeared to be full of people. Millie led them through the second set of doors, shooing a heavy-eyed purugly off the seat cushions nearest the doors.

"The doctors are just in with granddad at the moment, if you would care to join us for tea?" Millie offered, directing them to take a seat on the recently vacated cushions.

"That sounds just fine," Ki replied, settling himself back against the cushions.

Annika hesitated a moment, taking in the people and pokémon that were visiting or moving about in the room. As Millie turned away to fetch them tea, she dropped onto the cushion next to him. "Is it always so busy?" she asked, turning her gaze upon Ki.

"This is my first time in Lord Theodore's home, but, yes, this is usually how it is with Niles' family," Ki answered, watching as a shinx snagged a biscuit from the unguarded plate of a child and disappeared behind the furniture.

"It's so chaotic," Annika breathed, turning wide eyes back to the goings-on of the room.

Millie returned moments later, a tray with three cups of tea balanced precariously in one hand and a struggling turtwig under her other arm. The tray she set on a small side table, while the turtwig was shifted onto her lap as she seated herself across from them.

"This is Sheldon, he's the turtwig I told you about last time I saw you," Millie informed them. She offered Sheldon a treat from her pocket that seemed to calm him down almost immediately.

"He's incredible, the drawings and writings of the library don't do them justice." Ki leaned forward to get a closer look, smiling as the green and brown pokémon chirped happily at his words.

Millie beamed back at him before remembering the tea. She offered them each a cup, careful not to unseat Sheldon as she did. "He's the offspring of my parents' torterra, they're a bonded pair. Do you remember my brother?" When Ki nodded that he did remember him, she continued, "Well, he's a registered trainer now, but he had a turtwig, too, their first egg, actually. It's evolved into a grotle now. Anyway, you really must come visit our home in Floaroma Town, I would love to show them to you."

Before Ki could respond, they were interrupted by an older man with thinning dark brown hair and bright eyes. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting, you must be Ki."

"Oh, this is my uncle, Lord Theodore," Millie informed them, starting to stand until the turtwig on her lap gave her a light nip on the hand. She sat back awkwardly, shooting Sheldon a dirty look behind her uncle's back.

"Please, call me Theo," the man replied, offering a hand to shake, light gleaming off the numerous silver rings adorning his fingers. "My father speaks quite highly of you. I only wish Millie had informed us all sooner that she had invited you. I assure you, it is not _always_ a madhouse here."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, I only wish it were under better circumstances," Ki replied, shaking the man's hand. He glanced over to Millie, but she didn't meet his gaze. "This is my sister, Annika."

Annika rose from her seat to shake Theo's hand, looking as uncomfortable as Ki felt. "Thank you for allowing us into your home at such a trying time."

"We are all happy to have you here." Theo's gaze flicked to the doors, seeing something or someone behind them. "It would seem the doctors are done for now. If you would like, Ki, you can come with me. Millie, please take care of anything our guest needs."

Ki hurried to his feet, his tea forgotten on the end table beside him. "Of course," he replied hurriedly, his chest tightening. He glanced back at Annika, meeting her worried gaze with what he hoped was a reassuring smile before following Theo from the room.

They snaked their way up the stairs and through a number of hallways and rooms toward the back of the house. At the end of yet another hallway, Theo pushed open a walnut door and revealed a cozy, brightly lit room. Two large windows took up most of the wall across from them, light curtains were pulled across them to lessen the brightness of the sun shining through. The walls of the room had been painted a warm brown, and bookshelves lined one wall. The headboard of a bed rested against the wall across from the bookshelves, and on the bed lay a thin form, half-hidden under a mound of blankets.

Ki followed Theo into the room, his gaze finding Niles' face and remaining fixed there. The man that Ki found laying in the bed was a ghost of the archivist he had spent so many hours working with. His face was gaunt, the pale skin tight around the bones of his face. The eyes that met his were a familiar grey, but they were not as he remembered. The light had dulled and only a flicker of the fire of his spirit remained.

"Have a seat here." Theo's words pulled Ki from his own thoughts, his gaze flicking to the much healthier man. Theo had pulled a chair up close to the bed for him.

As Ki slumped into the chair he remembered his manners, turning back to Theo for a moment. "Thank you," he said softly, before turning his attention back to his mentor.

"Don't come too close, I could never forgive myself…," Niles rasped, the words hardly more than a whisper in the quiet room, trailing off as his voice failed him. His too-thin frame was wracked by a weak cough.

In his scrutiny of Niles, Ki had failed to notice the nurse sitting in the corner of the room, on the other side of the bed. The robed figure rose when Niles began coughing, leaning over him to steady his shoulders and wipe the spittle from his lips and sweat from his brow. She wore a mask over the lower half of her face, her strawberry-blonde hair pulled back in a severe updo. She said nothing, though she did cast a glance to where Theo stood behind Ki.

"Don't worry about me, I'm as strong and steady as a torterra," Ki assured him. Next to Niles, he expected even he looked healthy. He had to suppress a dark laugh at the thought, keeping his expression composed. He glanced from the nurse to Theo standing behind him. He opened his mouth, changed his mind, and closed it again.

Understanding without being asked, Theo stepped forward and quietly informed him, "The doctors say he's beginning to recover. The worst of the confusion has passed, and the fever has lessened. It will be a long road, but we are all hopeful."

Niles offered Ki a weak smile. His grey eyes flicked up to Theo and he whispered, "Tell him, please."

Ki watched as Theo pulled up a chair, wondering what more there was to tell. It seemed that, whatever it was, it had been discussed before Ki's arrival.

"Before my father took ill, he told us all about the damages at the Canalave library, and that there is much work to be done. However, the doctors say it will be some time, possibly months, before he is strong enough to return to work." Theo and Niles exchanged a look, the frown on Niles' face showing his displeasure at the words. "We have discussed the situation as a family, and we believe we have come up with a solution, for the time being at least."

Though he was disappointed to hear how long he might have to wait to work with Niles again, Ki was intrigued to hear what they had come up with. He turned so he had a better view of both Theo and Niles.

Theo met his gaze before continuing, "I'm not sure if Millie told you, yet, but she has spent the last year and a half apprenticing under a mapmaker in Eterna City. She has offered to help with the repairs at the library. My son, Erik, has also offered to help you both when he is available. He collects and restores artwork for the lords and ladies of Eterna City, he has even done some work for the royal family. I believe their skills should be of help to you."

"That all sounds wonderful, but I don't believe the lords of Canalave City will be willing to pay for the extra labour, unfortunately," Ki informed him, wishing he didn't have to turn down the help.

"Neither will need pay from the city," Theo assured him. "Erik does not need the extra pay, and I will be taking care of all of Millie's expenses while she is in Canalave City."

"That is incredibly generous, sir, I cannot thank you enough." Ki shot Niles an excited smile, one that he was pleased to see the older man attempt to return.

"It's settled, then," Theo stated, offering his hand to shake. "I will see to it that both of them are there on Monday to meet with you."

Ki rose from his chair to shake Theo's hand for the second time that day.

"I must go to meet with the doctors, I trust you will be able to find your way back downstairs when you are done here?" Theo said as he released Ki's hand. With the assurance that Ki did indeed recall how to find the main floor, he turned and left the room.

Ki sank back into the chair facing Niles and the nurse that still quietly lingered on the other side of the bed. Feeling far better about both Niles' condition and the situation at the library, Ki set about telling Niles all about the works that he had restored in the past week. Niles did not do much more than smile as he listened to Ki's words, his voice and lungs too weak to be of much use in the conversation.

Ki was in the middle of telling Niles about an edition of _Conquering Mt. Coronet: the History of a United Sinnoh_, and how half of the unnumbered pages had come free of the binding, when he noticed that the older man had fallen asleep. The nurse offered him a reassuring smile upon noticing the look of concern that crossed Ki's face.

"He does this, the illness does not leave him with much energy, but he is fine. You'd best let him rest now, though," the nurse informed him, her voice soft as she ushered him out the door with an extra pat on the shoulder.

Ki waited until the door had been closed behind him before fishing his medicine from his pocket and popping it into his mouth. There was still at least an hour left before his father would return to pick them up, and he wasn't certain he had the energy to face the crowd downstairs for such a long period of time without it. As he descended the stairs, his steps became lighter and the ache that had settled into his muscles while he visited Niles dissipated.

Downstairs, many of the visitors that had been in the sitting room from earlier had wandered off to different parts of the house. Millie and Annika had remained there, waiting for Ki to finish up with Niles.

"It might be hard to imagine, but he really is doing much better," Millie informed him as he rejoined them.

Ki nodded at her words. "I appreciate the reassurance. It's hard to see him in such poor condition."

"Millie was just telling me about her uncle's gardens at the back of the house. She says Niles has a great view of them from his room," Annika told him, rising to her feet at the sight of her brother.

"Yes, they're really quite spectacular. Would you two like to see them?" Millie asked, her face brightening. She tied her dark brown curls back into a messy knot while she waited for them to decide.

"I think some fresh air would be nice, don't you?" Annika looked at Ki hopefully, clearly eager to get out of the busy house.

Ki hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the comfortable seats and cushions of the room. Finally, he sighed, "Yes, I suppose that sounds like a lovely idea."

"Wonderful!" Millie sprang to her feet, disturbing the turtwig that had fallen asleep beside her. He gave a mournful moan as she picked him up, looking utterly devastated at being removed from the warm cushion. "Oh shush, you know you love the garden, too," she told the grass-type as she led them from the room.

As they emerged from the house out into the gardens, Ki found himself looking up at the windows of the house behind them. The gardens were even more impressive than he had expected, a maze of carefully chosen trees and shrubs with beautifully contrasting flowers interspersed throughout it all. He wondered if Niles had been able to see any of it since he had fallen ill, or if he had been confined solely to the bed.

Millie set the turtwig on the ground, watching as it wandered off to lay in one of the flowerbeds.

"Would your uncle mind if we let our own pokémon out to enjoy the afternoon?" Annika asked, already reaching for the pocket hidden in the ruffles of her skirt.

"Of course not, they should be allowed to enjoy the garden as much as us," Millie assured her, offering her a brilliant smile.

Ki pulled his attention back from the windows above to what was going on around him. He fumbled at his belt for Blue's poké ball while Annika released her kricketune. Moments later, the kricketune was wandering through the maze of shrubs and trees, crying out a beautiful, happy melody, while Ki's altaria soared overhead. He had left Zel at home in their own gardens that morning, and was now regretting not bringing her along to enjoy Theo's impressive garden. Had he not known better, he would not have guessed that they were still within Jubilife City limits.

As Ki sat on a bench watching the two girls and the pokémon enjoy the warm day, his thoughts turned to the naval officer from the day before. He had not given the man much thought since leaving the library, but now he realized he was going to have to come up with something to tell him when he returned to work on Monday.


	8. Chapter 7

Alex and Skadi had found the tropius without much trouble. Other than the fiasco with the mightyena, the evening could have gone a lot worse, Alex decided. Catching the tropius had gone smoothly, and, in a moment of homesickness, she had decided to name the large pokémon Stark, after the volcanic mountain in Sinnoh's Northeast. Without the large pokémon following behind her, she was able to move through the city mostly unnoticed and avoid any trouble that the large pokémon might have attracted. The few people that did look her way had seen nothing more than a dirty-looking kid, not someone they needed to be concerned about.

She had wandered down streets that quickly became more and more run down the farther she went. Buildings were crammed together, and the roads were rutted from cart traffic. With only run-down industrial buildings ahead of her, she followed the growing sounds of a commotion that could only be the result of some sort of pokémon battle.

What she found was a wide, sandy beach, hidden in the shadows of a few large warehouses just down from the docks. A crowd of people had gathered, some that looked to be in no better condition than herself, while others were adorned in expensive jewellery and perfectly fitted clothes. They formed a loose semi-circle around a makeshift battlefield. The sand in the centre was scorched, darkened by the attacks of fire-types earlier in the night.

When she arrived, she spotted a shiftry dancing around an acid-spewing swalot, attempting to avoid the dangerous toxins. It was not the first time she had come across a scene such as the one before her, albeit not on a beach like this.

Amateurs and wanna-be trainers looking to make a buck or get noticed flocked to places like the one before her. Places where people would squander more money betting than most of the fighters they bet on could ever imagine possessing.

There had been times during her training and travels around Sinnoh when she had found herself down on her luck, desperate for money and supplies. The not-quite-legal fights that popped up in the seedier parts of the cities had helped her to get by when she was at her worst. It had been over a year since she had taken part in one.

Alex knew her only other option was to start stealing, and she wasn't quite desperate enough to take that route — the one poké ball from earlier that evening aside. A repeat offence would just be asking to get caught. Swallowing her pride and straightening her back, she strode up to one of the better dressed men lurking toward the back of the group.

The man looked up at her approach, narrowed eyes looking her up and down before turning back down to the clipboard in his hands. "Go home, kid," he told her, not taking his eyes away from his clipboard as he scrawled something next to one of the lines.

Alex ignored his dismissive tone, biting back the sarcastic retort she wanted to give. It served her better if he underestimated her anyway. "What's the cut?" she asked, keeping her voice calm.

At that, the man looked up, meeting her steady gaze. His mouth turned down into an annoyed scowl as he answered, "For you? Seven percent. If you win."

"And if I lose?" Alex narrowed her eyes, not liking the way the man glanced down at the poké balls at her waist.

"You have any money to pay your entrance?"

The smirk on his face told her he already knew what she would say, but she shook her head anyway.

"In that case, if you lose, your pokémon become collateral against the money you owe me." The man laughed humourlessly, waiting for Alex to turn around and walk away.

Alex swallowed, struggling to remain calm against the horrible, sick feeling rising in her throat. To possibly have to give up any of her pokémon was a dangerous risk. It would be a horrible betrayal of their trust. How many naive kids had fallen into this man's trap? How many were fighting for him every night just trying to earn the money they owed him?

"Fine," she finally spit out, earning her a surprised look from the man.

The odds of meeting an opponent in an illegal back street fighting ring that had the experience and team to beat her were slim. Most registered trainers didn't hang around crowds like the one she had found. They could afford not to.

The man started laughing again, a horrid barking noise, the effort of which rocked his entire body as he threw his head back. When he had finally gotten control of himself, he looked her in the eye and told her, "Alright, you're next then. I look forward to getting your pokémon. Oh, and I'll need a name."

"Alex," she answered with a scowl, turning on her heel to walk away from the foul man. If, by some miracle, she did lose, she supposed she wouldn't mind getting into a brawl over it. She wouldn't give up any of her pokémon without a fight, and this man had no legal recourse to fall back on other than whatever goons he had working for him. At the very least, she was a fast runner.

She didn't have to wait long for her turn. The swalot had managed to land a direct hit on the shiftry, and it had all gone downhill from there for the white-maned pokémon. Money changed hands around the circle of people, while a pair of burly men walked around them making sure everyone paid up.

The battlefield cleared and the ring leader — the man she had spoken to before — stepped out into the middle. He cleared his throat loudly, causing everyone to quickly quiet down. "We have a new challenger tonight. Let's welcome Alex to the ring!" he called out.

As Alex stepped out into the ring, she was met by jeers and shouting. Those that weren't laughing or yelling out insults whispered amongst themselves, making no effort to hide their pointing. She knew what they saw. They saw a scrawny kid, barely old enough to be an adult, covered in dirt and grime and sweat. As dishevelled as she was, Alex looked as threatening as a newly hatched togepi. She could only hope that would work in her favour.

"And battling against Alex will be Theresa," the ring leader shouted when the crowd quieted down.

The woman that stepped into the ring did not wear a dress as many of the other women in the crowd did. Rather, she wore breeches and a tightly-fitted red and black doublet with a lace cravat tied about her neck. Long brown curls were tied back out of the way, and her nose looked as if it had been broken before. The belt that crossed over her shoulder carried four poké balls and, at her waist, a sheathed rapier. Not quite the amateur Alex had hoped for. When she stepped out from the circle of people, the crowd whooped and hollered.

Alex didn't have to guess who the favourite to win was.

"This will be a standard battle, each challenger may choose two pokémon. A pokémon is considered defeated when it has fainted or can no longer battle." The ring leader stepped back away from the battlefield, disappearing into the crowd.

Alex's hand passed over her newly acquired tropius' poké ball, pausing briefly on it. As much as she was curious what he could do, it wasn't worth the risk of losing because she had used a novice pokémon. Her fingers settled around an off-white poké ball instead, removing it from its clasp. Across from her, Theresa had made her selection as well.

"Come on out, Medicham," Theresa called, releasing her poké ball at the same time as Alex.

Alex eyed the grey-and-red pokémon that appeared across the battlefield from her. Medicham, as Theresa had called it, was unfamiliar to her, though the way it held itself suggested that it might be a fighting-type. It looked calmly across the field back at her and her pokémon.

Turning her gaze to Theresa, Alex was satisfied to see her own puzzlement reflected in her opponent's face as she eyed the drapion Alex had selected. The large, purple pokémon huffed and scraped her claws through the sand before raising them again.

Theresa twisted her wrist, and Medicham shifted in place as its eyes began to glow. Alex had to suppress a gleeful laugh when nothing happened. The furious look that crossed Theresa's face was more than enough to tell her she had expected _something_ to happen. Which meant Medicham was at least a part-psychic-type, a fact that Alex mentally tucked away in case she came across another one in the future.

"Niobe, charge it, let's see how this thing moves," Alex called coolly.

Medicham danced around the drapion, its movements fluid and graceful despite the speed with which the drapion lunged at it. A set of razor-sharp claws narrowly missed Medicham's stomach as Niobe swung her head about.

Across the field, Theresa snapped her fingers and Medicham jumped back obediently, putting some distance between itself and the drapion that was getting dangerously close. Theresa snapped her fingers again, twice this time, and Medicham responded instantly, launching itself through the air toward Niobe.

"Grab hold of it," Alex called out, words running together.

Niobe whipped around, sand spraying out around her as she braced for the collision. Heavy claws pierced thick skin as Medicham's knee slammed into the drapion. The high jump kick sent both pokémon tumbling across the loose ground, Medicham scrambling to get loose from Niobe's powerful claws as they took on a dark purple glow. By the time the humanoid pokémon managed to shake itself loose from the poison fang, the skin around the fresh wounds had started to take on a dark hue. Medicham had not made it far when Niobe lunged again, catching a leg with her powerful claws.

Theresa dropped any pretence of secrecy as Niobe's teeth glowed white, balling her hands into fists and calling out, "Ice punch!"

Niobe had latched onto Medicham's leg, powerful teeth and claws making a sickening crunching sound. Medicham twisted around, its fist taking on an icy glow as it slammed hard into Niobe's side, sending the drapion sprawling across the sandy ground. Unable to put any weight on its injured leg, Medicham balanced shakily on one leg.

Alex saw its eyes flicker, its outline beginning to glow. "Take it down with venoshock," Alex shouted, not about to let her opponent recover when she was so close to beating it.

Niobe twisted her head around, firing a stream of purple liquid at the already poisoned pokémon. Unable to dodge in time, Medicham took the blast straight on, crumpling to the ground as the poison overwhelmed it. Theresa recalled her pokémon with an angry curse, the wide-eyed crowd whispering amongst themselves as they watched her.

Alex drew in a deep breath. _One down, one to go_. Niobe came to stand before her, holding steady despite the heavy blows she had taken. Together, they watched as Theresa chose her next poké ball from the belt over her shoulder.

Much to Alex's surprise, Theresa called out a swampert next. A pokémon that she recognized as one of Hoenn's trademark pokémon from a guide her father had brought home when she was younger. She was certain that the creature crouching ahead of her was the same as the one in the drawings she had studied. At least now she had an idea of just how far from home she really was.

A smile crossed Theresa's face as she called out, "Earthquake."

That one simple word was all it took to tear a chunk out of Alex's confidence. Swampert reared back before slamming its long arms against the sandy ground. The sand vibrated at first, rippling as the shockwave sped toward Niobe. There was no avoiding it as the ground beneath the drapion rolled violently, smashing the heavy purple pokémon about as if she weighed no more than a budew. When the ground finally settled, Niobe was no longer standing.

Alex recalled her fainted pokémon, the ring leader's smirk catching her eye among the crowd. She scowled, considering her options as her fingers brushed over her still available poké balls. Her hand came to a rest over Saheer's ball, undoing the clasp and releasing him.

Her flygon twisted in the air, wings beating almost too quickly to see as he kicked up a sandstorm around him. He eyed Swampert smugly as the mud fish pokémon raised an arm to fend off the sand that was blasting everything. The crowd backed away, making the circle even bigger.

"Let's see how they like a taste of their own medicine," Alex mused. "Earthquake!"

Saheer dove at the ground, slamming into it with all four paws before bouncing back into the air. Waves rolled out from where he had landed, and the ground beneath Swampert heaved, tossing it about as it tried to maintain its footing.

"Into the water," Theresa called out, shielding her eyes from the sand that was swirling around the battlefield.

Swampert rolled into the lapping waves, planting its feet in the shallow water. The water around it roiled and frothed as it swirled into a wave. With a screech, Swampert launched the muddy water at the flygon, throwing the green pokémon backward through the air.

Saheer righted himself, growling furiously as he shook himself out. As he dove back down toward Swampert, his claws took on a blue glow. A green glow surrounded Swampert as it protected itself, Saheer bouncing off the unharmed pokémon. The flygon twisted in the air for a second attempt.

Swampert launched itself out of the water at Saheer, Saheer's dragon claw grazing across the blue and orange pokémon's side as they slammed against each other and into the wet sand below. They rolled across the ground and back into the water before breaking apart, coated in a layer of grime. Saheer pulled himself back into the air, shaking off most of the sand and spraying water from his long body.

"Finish this," Alex called out, eyeing the way that Swampert was favouring its side.

"Protect yourself," Theresa called out as an orange ball of energy formed before Saheer's mouth.

Swampert began to glow, but Saheer launched the blinding hyper beam at it, launching the mud fish pokémon backward before the protective energy field could finish forming. Saheer dropped toward the ground, crouching in the sand and panting from the heavy energy expenditure. Out in the waves, Swampert floated motionlessly, knocked out by the force of the blast.

There was a pause after Theresa recalled her pokémon, their audience standing in shocked silence. As the two women walked toward the centre of the field to shake hands, a few people began to clap. More and more joined in as Alex grasped Theresa's hand firmly.

"It's been a while since I've experienced a battle like that," Theresa said, a reluctant smile crossing her face. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, you have some fantastic fighters," Alex said, unable to keep the relieved smile from her face. She had won. Her pokémon had pulled through, as she knew they would. Her chest swelled with pride for her team as she stepped back.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Theresa questioned, walking away from the centre of the battlefield.

"Ah, no, I'm not. It's a bit of a long story, and… well, I'm not actually sure where 'here' is," Alex admitted, following after her. She could feel heat climbing up her neck and into her cheeks as her face reddened.

"That I can help you with; you're on the outskirts of Lilycove City," Theresa replied, smiling over her shoulder at Alex. "You'll find Giddon sulking over there," Theresa added with a laugh, pointing off to the shadows of one of the warehouses.

The crowd parted to let the two trainers and Saheer through, the flygon humming happily as he drifted alongside her. The ring leader, Giddon, was exactly where she had been told to look.

To her surprise, he was not alone. At her approach, the pelipper that had been resting beside him took off, soaring away over the ocean water. Giddon glanced up from the letter he was reading. She had expected to find some sign of anger at being hustled — something as simple as a frown, even. There was no anger, though. If anything, the man looked thoughtful.

"I'll take my pay now," Alex informed him, offering a sarcastic smile.

The side of Giddon's mouth turned up as he folded the letter and tucked it into his jacket. "Of course," he replied, pulling out a small bag of coins. "As agreed."

Alex took the bag from the man's grasp, uncomfortable at how easy the whole exchange was. For good measure, she opened the tie on the bag and checked that the contents really were coins. She didn't recognize the symbols on them, but they were definitely real coins.

As she turned back to Saheer she heard Giddon clear his throat. "Hold on, kid," he said.

Alex hesitated, eyes narrowing and brows pulling down. She had her money, she could walk away and never have to see the sleazy man again. Against her better judgement, she turned back around to face the man.

"I know we got off on the wrong foot," Giddon admitted, holding his hands up defensively at the expression he found on her face. "But hear me out. If you come back here tomorrow morning, I'll give you four times what you made tonight, and free entrance." He tilted his head and swept his arms out, looking surprisingly amicable as he made his offer.

"What's the catch?" Alex asked, not trusting the man's suddenly friendly demeanour or his generous offer. She hadn't been _that_ good.

Giddon pursed his mouth and shook his head before answering, "No catch. I have some customers that weren't here tonight, I think they'd like to see you battle."

Alex hesitated. She could see no reason for him to lie, but that didn't mean he wasn't. The bag in her hands would be enough for a few supplies and maybe a room at a cheap inn if there was anything left after she had healed her pokémon. Four times that amount, though? Well, it would certainly make for a better start in Hoenn than she could have imagined.

"You had better be telling the truth," Alex finally answered, looking the man in the eye.

Giddon nodded, glancing back at the building over his shoulder. "You'll find us in that building tomorrow morning."

Alex glanced at the building he was referring to. There were holes in the walls — patches where the shadows were even darker — and, from where she stood, she wasn't sure if it even had doors anymore. She supposed a run-down, abandoned building made sense.

Without a word, she turned around to Saheer and headed back down the rutted road the way she had come earlier in the night. Her flygon bounded along at her side until they had returned to the docks, where she recalled him to his poké ball. There had been an inn not far from the docks that she spotted earlier. If she was lucky, they would still have rooms available and supplies to heal her pokémon.

With her small winnings in hand, she set off to find the inn, feeling better about her predicament than she had since leaving Canalave City.


	9. Chapter 8

The _Sea Phantom_ cut through the calm ocean waters off the eastern coast of the Hoenn mainland. They kept the jagged rock of the Sootopolis City crater to their west, as if the great stone wall would somehow protect their passing from the eyes of the king in Ever Grande City.

Fair winds had kept the ship moving at a decent clip through much of the afternoon, but, as evening fell, so too did those winds. With not a ship in sight, and the nearest land no more than a smudged mirage in the distance, the crew furled the ship's sails for the evening. They cleared her main deck with much the same efficiency as they had used to prepare her to sail earlier that day.

The carpenter and his mates worked far overhead, swapping the tattered topgallant and royal sails for their newly prepared replacements. Their pidgeot, beautifly, and wingull flitted about among the ropes and beams, following the directions called out to them.

An air of excitement, not unlike that of the afternoon, lingered on the the cool breeze as over-flowing bowls of food were passed around amongst the crew. Humans and pokémon alike devoured the fresh food making its way up from the galley.

Sketch stood at the edge of the quarterdeck, arms resting on the railing that prevented him from falling over the edge to the main deck. The bowl held haphazardly in his hands was nearly empty as he watched his crewmates settle in all around the ship. The smallest and most limber hung from the rigging above their heads, meals already finished, while others opted for the forecastle or the quarter deck, and a select few leaned against the railing on either side of the main deck. Much of the space between the fore- and mainmasts remained empty.

The battlefield had cleared. The only thing missing were the opponents.

All eyes were on Victor, hushed anticipation settling over the ship as he stepped out from the railing. In the middle of the deck, he stopped and turned a full, slow circle to look at everyone watching him.

"Rules are unchanged," he called out, raspy voice carrying over the salty air. "Each may choose one pokémon. Battle ends when one cannot continue or hits the water. Damage the ship, swab for a month. Repairs come out of your cut." The amber beads at the ends of his dark hair caught the light as he turned and pointed out two of the crew. Returning to the edge of the ship, the battle-worn man opened a poké ball, aimed over the side of the ship.

Somewhere down in the waters below, out of sight, Sketch knew that an octillery had materialized, as scarred and rough as its master. A safety net should anyone take an unexpected dip in the waters below.

On the main deck below, Sketch watched as the two chosen opponents stepped out from the crowd. The first spar was always between gunners, specifically those that had been performing well, the way Victor liked it, and today was no different. A woman with an auburn braid and fierce expression took up position at the base of the foremast, poké ball in hand. There had been no sign of hesitation or nerves on Henley's face when she had been picked, there never was. Sketch had not been able to see the expression on her opponent's face, but he recognized the tousled blond hair of the young man that now stood with his back to the mainmast as he faced her — Garnet.

The pair released their pokémon at the same time, boots stomped and pirates cheered as the pokémon materialized. The granbull that appeared before Henley snapped its teeth and growled, her master's fierce look reflected in the way she held herself. The wartortle that stood opposite the fairy-type planted its feet and spit a stream of water at the ground to its side before meeting the granbull's glare.

"'Enley or Garnet, who's yer gold on?" called a voice from below.

Sketch glanced down, near the doors to the navigation room, to see Janek walking among the pirates and taking bets. From where he sat, he couldn't quite make out which of the two were favoured to win.

"Janek, ye' old zubat," Sketch called out, catching a dirty look from the grey-haired man. "Put me down for ten on Henley."

Janek snorted, but marked it on his board anyway, muttering, "I'll be 'appy to take yer money, ye' ungrateful feebas."

Sketch spooned the last of his supper into his mouth, set the bowl aside for one of the cabin boys to collect, and leaned back against the railing to watch. Flynn bounded up beside him with a happy trill, brushing against his leg as he settled in to observe the battle as well.

It was Henley that moved first, her granbull surging forward. As she charged toward the wartortle, she dropped to all four paws, closing the distance between them at a dizzying speed.

Moments before collision, Wartortle released a glowing pulse of water. The blast hit Granbull square in the face, causing her step to falter and cutting her speed to a fraction of what it had been. The two pokémon collided, the larger and heavier Granbull bowling over the smaller Wartortle. They tumbled across the deck, each grappling for a hold on the other.

Wartortle didn't need to be told to avoid Granbull's powerful jaws, but Garnet barked out warnings for him anyway. Across the deck, Henley looked like it was taking everything in her power to hold still while she waited for one of the two to gain an upper paw. She clenched and unclenched her fists as the blue and purple pokémon crashed into the starboard-side railing together, scattering the few sailors that had been leaning there.

The sailors in the rigging above whooped and hollered as Wartortle smashed her tail — water spiralling around it — into Granbull's side. The force of the aqua tail knocked the two apart. They circled, both humans and pokémon watching for an opening in the other's defence. Wartortle tried a second water pulse, but Granbull rolled out of the way and the water knocked over a sailor that couldn't get out of the way fast enough.

"Before she's up, rapid spin!" Garnet ordered, hands knotting in the hair on top of his head as he watched.

Wartortle leaped forward, twisting as he pushed off the ground. As he spun toward Granbull, his limbs and head retracted into his shell, giving him a boost of speed. Granbull's eyes widened and her paws slid on the wooden planking as she scrambled to evade the attack. The spinning shell grazed against Granbull's hind leg and ricocheted across the deck. Wartortle's head and limbs re-emerged, claws scraping against the worn wood as he slowed to a stop.

Sketch gritted his teeth as he watched Granbull jump to her feet and nearly drop back to the decking when her hind leg wouldn't take the weight. His gaze met Janek's, narrowing when he saw the smirk the navigator shot him. The battle may have been practise, but the bets were very real.

Henley cursed, turning and punching the foremast before facing the battle again. Granbull had managed to steady herself, using a fore leg to ease some of the weight from her injured leg. The look she shot Wartortle, blazing eyes and snarling mouth, sent a shiver down Sketch's spine, and the fur along Flynn's back rose.

Wartortle launched a third pulse of glowing water. Rather than try to dodge, Granbull braced herself and turned her face away. The burst of water hit her head on, and her body swayed and trembled with the impact. When her stance had steadied, she ran forward, her gait awkward as she favoured her injured leg. A second blast of water hit her, but she pushed through, crashing headfirst into Wartortle.

The impact sent both of them sprawling. Granbull was up first, shaking her head to clear it while Wartortle scrambled back to his paws. When they clashed this time, their movements were clumsy and slow.

Sketch gripped the railing tightly, knuckles turning white. He did not dare cast a glance at Janek as the battle neared its end.

"Finish this with thunder fang, Granbull," Henley shouted, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

The tips of Granbull's fangs glowed white, and bright sparks popped and sparkled around her mouth. Wartortle tried to twist away, but his movements were too slow as Granbull's strong jaw latched onto a foreleg and electricity lanced through his body.

Wartortle collapsed against the wooden deck while Granbull slumped back on her haunches, breathing heavily. Both gunners rushed forward, quickly shaking hands when they were close enough before dropping down to check on their pokémon. Both pokémon were recalled, and Henley and Garnet crossed the deck to the stairs, disappearing down to the deck below to visit Brenna in the infirmary.

The battle was over, and Henley the winner. Sketch loosened his grip on the railing, searching the applauding crowd below him on the main deck for the familiar grey ponytail. His gaze found Janek near the stairs. When Janek looked over and met his gaze, Sketch gave him a crooked smile and tipped an imaginary hat.

Victor called forward the next pair to battle, and the next after that, and the evening drew on as the crew waited for the last of the repairs to be done and for darkness to fall.

* * *

The _Sea Phantom_ sailed the rest of the way under the cover of the night, allowing her to pass through the waters east of Lilycove City undetected. North of the city, near the coast, she sat anchored. Few ships followed the coast north, and the forest and hills hid her from view of the city and ports. The chances of being spotted by any prying eyes or King's men were slim.

The crew that would be heading ashore had been decided overnight by Captain Greyson and Victor. Sketch had swapped out his black shirt for a cleaner, navy blue silk shirt under his gold waistcoat and had done his best to wash his face and hair in preparation to go ashore. Captain Greyson had chosen him, as well as two of the gunners, to go with her, though she had yet to tell any of them who it was that they would be visiting in the city.

With his poké balls strapped to his belt and a cutlass on the other side, he deemed himself ready. Or as ready as he could be after weeks with hardly anytime off the ship. At the very least, he figured he should be able to walk down the streets of Lilycove City without drawing too much attention. Careful not to wake Cedric or Sean, he weaved around the bunks in the officer's cabin to the ladder and climbed his way up to the forecastle.

He blinked against the early morning light, giving his eyes a moment to adjust before taking a better look around. The crew that had stood watch through the night were just swapping out with some of their better rested comrades while Victor and Connor stood off to the side.

"Morning," Connor called out as Sketch approached. The sailing master suppressed a yawn and rubbed a hand down his face. He had been up through much of the night, guiding the ship through the dark waters. He hadn't given up control of the helm until the captain had ordered him to let one of the sailors take over.

Sketch merely nodded in response, leaning back against the railing beside them. They lapsed into silence while they waited for the rest of their respective parties to join them.

They did not have to wait long. Shortly after Sketch joined them, four gunners emerged from below deck. Victor had selected Garnet and Henley to accompany him in seeking out new gunners, which meant the other two — Itzal and Striker — would be going with Sketch and the captain.

Sketch nodded at the new arrivals as they came to stand beside them. Everyone had cleaned up as much as was possible, and had on their shore clothes. If anyone paid close enough attention they might still notice that something wasn't quite right with the group. The nice clothes that were just a little too mismatched, the gold and silver ornamentation, or the scars and other injuries that some of them would never be able to hide no matter how hard they tried.

"Ye'll be seein' Giddon?" Striker asked, dark eyes narrowed as he addressed Victor.

"Aye," Victor answered simply.

"Tell 'em he still owes me," Striker said in reply. A scowl twisted his lips as he leaned over to Henley and added quietly, "Remind 'em I ain't a patient man."

Captain Greyson and Damian emerged from the captain's quarters, cutting off any response that Henley or Victor might have given. "I'll send word if something goes wrong. You're not to wait for us," Sketch heard Captain Greyson tell the boatswain, putting her tri-cornered hat on over her dirty blonde braid.

"Of course, captain, should it come to that," Damian replied before bowing away.

"Oi, Piper!" Connor called, straightening up as Captain Greyson joined them.

A nearby sailor perked up, blonde ponytail falling over her shoulder as she turned her freckled face their way. "Yes, sir?"

"You're with me, we're going to ferry this crew over to land," Connor informed her, grabbing hold of the rope ladder that was tied up against the railing.

Piper hurried to the sailing master's side, helping him release the ladder to drop down to the water below. The pair quickly disappeared over the side of the railing. Captain Greyson looked at the remaining group before her and nodded over to the ladder. Taking his cue, Victor followed after Piper and Connor, his gunners trailing quickly after him. Sketch glanced back at his captain, but she made no move to follow so he went down the rope ladder next.

Waiting in the water below were two lapras, they trilled pleasantly as the group clambered onto their shells. Sketch found himself sitting on Piper's lapras, alongside Henley and Striker, with Captain Greyson joining them moments later.

The two large pokémon cut easily through the waves, carrying them quickly away from the ship toward the coastline. Henley and Striker talked quietly amongst themselves, their voices the only noise besides the waves and wingull that circled overhead. There was a flash of red ahead of them as a water-type splashed in the waves before disappearing again. The lapras pair remained unchallenged the entire trip to shore, even spooking a flock of taillow as they splashed up to the sandy shallows.

Sketch slid off Lapras' shell, landing with a small splash in the shallow water. They had come in shallow enough that only the bottoms of their boots were in the water. Around him, the other pirates climbed down and stepped out onto the beach.

Sketch, Victor, and the four gunners followed after Captain Greyson as she led them toward Lilycove City, leaving Connor, Piper, and the two lapras to wait for them at the beach.

The walk to Lilycove City did not take long, and soon enough the group was splitting up to follow their respective leaders. Captain Greyson still had not told them where they were going, but he knew Victor's crew would be heading for the ports.

The buildings and homes became nicer and nicer the further they walked, increasing Sketch's curiosity with every step they took. Wherever the were going, it was going to be interesting.

Sketch eyed the captain as she turned down a wide, cobbled road. She seemed perfectly at ease walking by the carefully manicured flowerbeds, expensive statues, and decorative gates even though the group of four stuck out like a mightyena in a herd of sheep.

He bit back the questions he wanted to ask her as she turned down a stone driveway that led up to what he could only describe as a mansion. The king's crest was engraved in stone above the doorway, depicting an ancient battle between Kyogre and Groudon. Had it not been broad daylight, Sketch was not sure he could have resisted the urge to pry out the ruby and sapphire eyes that glared down at them as they approached.

Ahead of him, Itzal and Striker exchanged glances, both looking as uncomfortable as Sketch felt. Captain Greyson glanced back over her shoulder at them, a crooked smile crossing her face as she threw open the front doors.

"Lock them," she ordered as the three men followed her through the doorway.

Itzal slammed the doors closed obediently, setting the heavy bolts that locked the door, and turned back to face the group.

"Don't let anyone in or out," she continued, looking from Itzal to Striker before adding, "There's a closet just through those doors. Lock anyone you find in there."

"Yes, ma'am," Itzal replied, pulling out a poké ball and releasing his arbok. The long purple pokémon hissed and coiled its body, ready to strike at a moments notice.

Striker was just reaching for a poké ball when footsteps sounded on the opposite side of the room. The door handle was still turning when Captain Greyson reached it, cutlass drawn. The man that stepped through the doors found himself staring down the polished steel that was only inches from his neck. Any colour he might have had drained from his face.

"You're going to take us to see Selma," she informed the man, beckoning with her free hand for Sketch to follow.

The man's mouth opened, closed, and opened again, wide eyes never leaving the blade that threatened him. Whatever words he wanted to say never came. He backed up, leading them back the way he had come, never fully turning his back to the sword at his back.

_Selma_. Sketch was certain he had heard that name before. As he walked, he thought back, searching his memories for where he had heard the name before.

Sketch followed Captain Greyson and the man down the short hallway to a large office. It was a corner room, with two walls of windows, one side overlooking the frontyard and the road. The other two walls were shelves of books and prized possessions visible behind glass doors.

There was only one person in the room, a small woman, grey hair pulled up into a bun atop her head, seated on a plush-looking armchair. The woman set the book she had been reading aside and pulled her glasses down to hang from the thin chain around her neck. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't the calm old woman that sat before them.

Looking at the refined woman sitting in her office in a house bearing the king's crest, Sketch realized why he recognized the name. Lady Selma was not only reeve of Lilycove City, but she was also one of the king's ten advisors. The list of people in Hoenn who held more power than the small, grey-haired woman sitting before them was a short one.

"I am so sorry, my lady," the man that had led them to the room whined, taking the seat Captain Greyson pointed him toward.

The woman ignored his words. "I suppose you do not believe in knocking, anymore, Quinn?" the woman asked, passing a cursory glance over Sketch before fixing her gaze upon the captain.

"We're past that, Selma," Captain Greyson replied, her voice as carefully composed as her straight face.

Sketch looked back and forth between the two women, but found himself with only more questions than he had arrived with. His pirate captain knew — really, intimately knew — one of the king's own advisors. He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"You should know that I have already sent word of your arrival. You will want to make this quick," Selma informed them both.

Sketch flinched at the words, but his captain seemed unaffected and unsurprised. He gritted his teeth and moved toward the windows, pulling the ceiling-tall curtains along with him to block the view in and out of the room.

"I know what he's ordered, and I know what's going on in Hoenn," Captain Greyson said, sheathing her cutlass and leaning on the desk that sat between her and Selma.

"Not just Hoenn," Selma corrected, eyes darkening.

Sketch closed the last of the curtains, leaving it open just enough that he had a view of the road running past the property. It was as quiet as it had been when they had arrived, but, if Selma was to be believed, that would change very soon.

"Do they know what's behind this disease?" Captain Greyson spread out the stack of papers that had been neatly piled on the desk, eyes scanning them as she waited for an answer.

"Those documents are personal," Selma chastised, looking, for the first time since they had arrived, as if she was uncomfortable.

"That wasn't an answer," Captain Greyson replied, voice flat as she continued to look through the papers.

Selma sighed, shaking her head when she finally answered, "I wish I could say that we know, but we do not. You are running out of time."

Sketch's gaze flicked to the window again, but the street was still empty for the moment. They were taking too long. They needed to get moving right away if they wanted to make it back to the ship in one piece.

"And what about solutions, or cures?" Captain Greyson finally looked up, crumpling one of the papers in her hand and stuffing it in one of the pockets of her long coat.

"Most of the council believes the answer lies in science. We have brought in the brightest minds in the region and sent ambassadors to meet with specialists from the other regions." Selma's gaze followed the paper that went into the other woman's pocket, her face reddening and eyes narrowed.

"And what of the rest of the council?" Captain Greyson asked slowly, meeting Selma's eyes.

"They believe we must look to the history books and the myths and the legends, that pokémon are the solution to what is happening." Selma drew in a deep breath and straightened the blanket that hung around her shoulders, the colour of her cheeks fading back to normal by the time she looked back at the captain.

Sketch brushed a hand over his poké balls, considering Selma's words. A pokémon powerful enough to cure a disease would be an incredible treasure, the kind that was almost too good to be true. He had never put much stock in the stories, preferring to believe in that which he could see with his own eyes. It wasn't that he believed they didn't exist at all, but rather that they were not as powerful as the stories made them out to be. Creatures that could grant wishes or travel through time were the kind of stories parents told their children to teach them lessons, and the beasts that could raze the very earth they stood upon scared those same children from going too far from home.

"And what do _you_ believe?" Captain Greyson walked around the side of the desk to stand closer to Selma, grey eyes narrowed.

Movement in the corner of his eye pulled his attention back to the window. Instinctively, he flattened his back against the wall and peeked out through the gap between the curtain and the wall, one hand still on his poké balls. Guards clad in leather armour painted in the blues and silvers of the king were running down the street. A quick glance told him there were at least a dozen, and that was assuming there weren't more still coming.

"Time to go, captain," Sketch nearly shouted, fire racing through his veins as he strode for the door.

But Captain Greyson did not move. Sketch turned back to her, hand on the door handle, furious that she was risking everything and everyone. He bit back the words he wanted to shout at her.

Selma rose from her seat, letting her blanket fall back to the chair. "Pokémon," she answered simply. Before Captain Greyson could move, she added, "Just tell me one thing, Quinn. Why did you sink that ship all those years ago?"

A muscle in Captain Greyson's cheek jumped as she clenched her jaw, still not moving. The guards would be at the front doors within moments, if they weren't already there.

"Is that the story he told you?" she asked in return, staring directly at Selma a moment longer before spinning on her heel and striding toward Sketch.

"They finally found it, you know. The wreckage? A fishing vessel found it in the southern seas," Selma said to Captain Greyson's back, unfazed by the other woman's response.

Captain Greyson's step faltered and she came to a stop. A conflicted look crossed her face briefly, but she didn't look back. After what felt like an eternity to Sketch, she started walking toward the door again.

"What in Groudon's blazes was that?" Sketch hissed under his breath, unable to help himself. He slammed the doors open so they could return the way they had come.

"The past, and you'd be wise to focus on the present," Captain Greyson snapped back, gaze focused on the ground ahead as they ran down the hall.

Sketch bit back a retort, glad that they were finally moving. Heavy crashing sounds and muffled shouting could be heard coming from the end of the hall. The guards had reached the doors.

Sketch and Captain Greyson burst into the foyer. Striker, Itzal, and two of their pokémon were braced against the doors, jaws clenched as someone or something on the other side rammed the door again.

"Striker, go out the side, find Victor and the others and get them back to the ship," Captain Greyson barked, pointing down the hall across from the one that she and Sketch had just come through.

Striker recalled his breloom and ran from the room, not looking back as he disappeared down the hallway. Sketch rushed to the door to take the breloom's place, bracing the door with his own weight as the guards outside slammed against it. Itzal was beside him, he and a crocanaw helping to brace the other side of the double door. A few steps away, Itzal's arbok hissed and coiled itself tighter, waiting for a command from its trainer.

Sketch fumbled at his belt for his poké balls, managing to release three of his pokémon in the lulls between guards or their pokémon hitting the door. A three-and-a-half foot tall Ariados crouched before him, white mandibles clicking together as she took in the shaking door that the two men and the croconaw were struggling to keep closed. Next to her, Flynn — brown and tan fur bristling and a snarl on his mouth — and another smaller pokémon materialized. The sneasel's red eyes narrowed, and it crouched down, a wide grin splitting its face as it readied itself for the battle that was about to take place.

Behind them, a houndoom and sceptile had appeared on either side of Captain Greyson, a third poké ball grasped in her off-hand. She drew out her cutlass with her other hand and looked from Itzal's eyes to Sketch's.

"On my command, open that door. I will move first, then you take out as many as you can and _run_," she ordered, her mouth setting into a firm line and fire burning in her eyes. "Split up and get back to the ship as fast as you possibly can."

Sketch drew in a deep breath, holding it as he drew out his own cutlass. Reinforcements or not, at least a dozen guards and their pokémon were waiting for them outside and there were only three of them inside. Poor odds, regardless of how skilled the three pirates and their pokémon might be.

Captain Greyson raised her cutlass and shouted, "Now!"


	10. Chapter 9

After weeks of sleeping on hard floors and rough ground, the old mattress and threadbare sheets in the small room Alex had rented felt heavenly. Had the walls not been thin and her neighbours asleep, she might have cried from the relief she felt as her muscles relaxed against its surface. It wasn't until the sun was shining directly through the small window and onto her face that she awoke, groggy and unsure of her surroundings.

Beside the bed, Saheer and Niobe were basking in what little sunlight was available in the cramped space, both looking far better than the night before. Though the inn had clearly seen better days, its keeper's son had proven to be a proficient healer. He had seen to each of her pokémon, treating the flygon and drapion's injuries from their battle with practised ease. He had even provided a fresh tub of water large enough for Adria to comfortably float while he checked her over. The lumineon had cooed happily at the attention before being returned to her ball.

Best of all, she'd had coins to spare after paying for her room and the healing of her pokémon, enough to afford a simple meal for them as well as a much-needed bath for herself. She had few coins leftover for supplies, but the promise of a greater payment still to come kept her hopeful.

Thoughts of the morning battle that she had agreed to were all that pulled her from the bed. _Why couldn't it have been an afternoon battle?_ she lamented silently as she pulled her shirt on over her head. She had done her best to wash her clothes when she had bathed, but, though they were no longer stiff with dirt, she had been unable to get out many of the stains.

The sounds of Alex moving about caught Niobe's attention. The drapion swung a claw toward her trainer, nudging her leg gently and looking up into her face. Alex rolled her eyes at the purple pokémon, but a smile crossed her face anyway as she reached down to scratch Niobe's neck, her scales warm against her hand from the sunlight. As Alex scratched, Niobe's eyes closed and a deep rumble vibrated through her body.

Saheer eyed them, lifting his head from where he was laying and cocking it to the side. He pulled himself around with his paws so that he was laying beside Niobe and right in front of Alex.

"Message received," Alex told him, shaking her head slightly. She reached out her other hand and scratched the flygon behind his head, adding more pressure as he leaned in to her hand.

They sat like that for a few minutes, until Alex's arms grew tired and she pulled them back. Niobe opened one eye and gave Alex a look that told her she wasn't done. Saheer, meanwhile, sat up and scratched behind his antenna with a back paw before rising from his spot on the ground and stretching, his mouth opening in a wide yawn.

"That's enough for now," Alex told them, ignoring the look that Niobe was giving her. She pulled the blanket back, revealing the belt with her poké balls that she had tossed on the end of the bed before passing out the night before. When she had recalled both Saheer and Niobe, she stood up off the bed and cinched the belt around her waist, taking comfort in the familiar feeling.

Feeling ready for the day, Alex made her way out of her room and down the narrow stairs. The bottom opened up into a room that doubled as both the reception and dining hall. The tables and chairs that were scattered about the room had seen better days, their surfaces scratched and worn — but also surprisingly clean. The innkeeper was working behind the counter by himself, his son, the healer, was nowhere to be seen.

The man offered her a warm smile as he greeted her with a cheerful, "Good morning." He accepted the small key she slid across the countertop to him, tucking it away in a drawer with the rest.

After rattling off his small menu, Alex picked a simple — and most importantly cheap — bowl of porridge with ground qualot berry dusted on top and turned to find a table. The table she chose was in the corner of the small room, out of the way. Settling into the chair with her back to the walls she had a view of the entrances and the people that were in the room. There were few other patrons in the small dining hall in that moment — a father with his young daughter sat on the opposite side of the room enjoying a meal similar to her own and a pair of merchants were chatting with the innkeeper at the counter.

Even with the addition of the qualot berry, the simple porridge was boring, and her attention wandered as she ate. Alex's chest tightened as she watched the young girl laugh at something her father said to her. They looked relaxed, and the father was smiling and gesturing wildly as he told some story. It was easy to see even from her corner how close the two were.

Memories stirred in the back of her mind, moments with her own father surfacing to front of mind. A smiling face with familiar blue eyes, not unlike her own, and dark stubble that would be rough against her soft cheeks when he would return from his travels and hug her so tightly she couldn't breathe. To be wrapped in those steady, comforting arms again…

"… was pure chaos," one of the merchant's at the counter finished saying, his words catching Alex's attention and pulling her from the memories that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Is that right?" the innkeeper replied, eyes wide as he listened to his two guests.

"Oh, yes, I wasn't even sure we would make it out alive!" The second merchant was louder than the first, placing a hand on his own chest as he spoke.

The first merchant nodded, his expression grave as he spoke again, "It was like nothin' I ever seen, I tell ya'. We ain't been to the towns 'round Mount Chimney in a while, and the way the plant life looked, well… can't have rained in a quite a long while. Nothing but tinder, and boy did it burn."

"I swear, I've never seen camerupt and magcargo so angry before, they were burnin' everything in sight. I can't imagine any buildings surviving—" the second merchant added.

The first merchant cut him off, continuing from what his partner had started to say, "It'll take 'em years to rebuild Lavaridge Town. We were lucky, we were. Some soldiers came 'cross us runnin' from the flames and flew us outta there. Told us to stay away from the area 'round the mountain 'til they got things under control."

"That's a shame, a fire like that. It would explain why they've sent so many guards and soldiers out of Lilycove, though, if they're trying to fight these fires," the innkeeper replied, glancing past the two merchants to the father and daughter as they finished their breakfast and rose from their table.

"Ain't just Lilycove, I heard they been comin' in from all the eastern cities," the first merchant informed him.

The second merchant muttered something that Alex couldn't quite make out from her seat in the corner. Her spoon scraped against an empty bowl, drawing her attention for a moment as she dragged the scraps together and spooned them into her mouth. She set the bowl aside and turned in her chair, pretending she was fixing her belt as she continued to eavesdrop.

The innkeeper looked thoughtful for a moment. "Word's been going around that the king's soldiers have closed all the routes around Littleroot and Oldale Town, too. Won't tell no one why, either," the innkeeper replied gruffly, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Odd. Ain't much down there, really," the first merchant replied, cocking his head to the side at the innkeeper's words.

"Would sure be something if it was related." The second merchant hesitated before adding, "Strange rumours going 'round, though, about His Majesty as of late. Heard he's been talking with the king and queen to the north."

The doors to the inn opened as the father and daughter left and a new traveller slipped through. At the sight of the potential customer, the innkeeper excused himself from the merchants to greet the man that had entered, ending the conversation.

Mulling over what she had heard, Alex pushed her chair back from the table and headed for the door. Hoenn was clearly not without its issues, she decided, as she walked down the street. It had sounded like the western part of the region was really quite a disaster.

At least she knew now to stay away from those areas. She didn't need anymore trouble.

Unlike the night before, Alex was more confident about where she was going. Walking in the daylight helped. With the early sun already beating down, she could see farther ahead, and details filled in around her that she hadn't noticed before. Foam from the crashing waves bubbling along the waterline, trash forgotten in corners and in the openings between buildings, hoofprints in the light dirt.

A painting that spanned a wide warehouse wall caught her attention, bringing her to a standstill as she admired the details. Impressive beasts of blue and red fought an epic battle in waves and fire while a great snakelike creature of green circled above them. The paint looked far newer than the old, run-down building that it coated.

"You came back," a female voice behind her said. Alex spun to find Theresa standing behind her, recognizing the curly-haired brunette. In the sunlight, three faint white lines were visible across the woman's cheek, old scars that reminded Alex of claw marks. She looked less intimidating in the daylight, but no less impressive with the belt over her shoulder and the sheathed rapier at her waist.

It wasn't until she had heard the words that she realized she had reached the battleground from the night before. The ocean waves had washed away any evidence that had remained in the sands from the fights. Without the crowd circled around, it was a simple beach road lined on one side by old warehouses that had long been abandoned.

In the sunlight, the warehouses bore the signs of fire-damage from years earlier, scorch marks running along the walls that still stood. There was nothing left but chunks of broken stone foundation at the end of the line of buildings, the only evidence that there had once been even more buildings.

"Giddon made an interesting offer," Alex told Theresa, shrugging slightly as she spoke. What else could she say? That she had nowhere else to go and no idea where to even begin in a foreign region?

Theresa looked out over the water, taking her time before asking, "Are you familiar with Hoenn's legends?" The woman turned her attention to the wall that Alex had been admiring.

Alex shook her head and shrugged. She knew some of Sinnoh's stories, but her interests had leaned more toward those things that would make her a stronger trainer in the present. She had never bothered to spend time researching the old legends and stories of home, let alone the stories of a foreign region.

Theresa appeared unsurprised, glancing back at Alex before leading her down the road. "There was a time, thousands of years ago, when our world was still being shaped, when energy was unbounded," she started, leading Alex through an old door that had been left ajar.

Inside, the warehouse had been gutted, the only items that remained were a few crates along the outer walls that seemed to serve as benches. Light streamed through holes and gaps in the ceiling where blue sky was visible beyond. Shadows lurked only in the furthest corners of the large building where the light didn't reach.

The two came to a stop just inside the doors while Theresa continued her story, "Two great creatures — the sea monster, Kyogre, and the beast of the land, Groudon — fought over the energy…"

A battle was just winding down as Theresa spoke, the two trainers recalling their pokémon. Unlike the night before, the crowd was smaller and most of the people crowded around had poké balls visible on their belts. The crowd seemed relaxed as they chatted and congratulated the winner of the match.

Alex dragged her attention back to Theresa as she finished the story, "… say the two fell into a deep slumber while Rayquaza continues to watch over the world from the skies above."

"In Sinnoh, we grew up on stories about the two dragons of time and space, and the lake guardians that keep their rage in check," Alex replied absent-mindedly, her gaze scanning the room for any sign of Giddon.

The man was not hard to find, spotting her at the same time she saw him leaning against a crate down the wall from the door. Even from her distance, Alex could see the muscles in his jaw relax and his brows pull apart. A small smile crossed his face as he turned his attention back to the three people standing with him, their backs to her as they spoke with him.

Alex was about to excuse herself and make her way over to Giddon when he pushed away from the wall and walked to the centre of the ring of people.

"Alright! Next up, Alex versus Merrit to the ring. Two pokémon each," he called out to the crowd, throwing his arms out to the side before dropping them and retreating back to his wall.

Alex forced her frown into a more neutral expression as the people that recognized her from the night before turned to look at her. She had hoped to talk to Giddon before the battle to make sure they were still on the same page about her payment, but that option appeared to have vanished. The man she assumed was her opponent was already striding into the middle of the crowd.

As she stepped out into the middle of the ring of people she realized that her opponent was no older than herself, probably even younger the closer she looked. His too-big shirt hung off his tall frame and his unbuttoned sleeves were rolled up to reveal dark olive skin. He ran a hand through his mop of curly dark hair as he walked forward to meet her in the centre of what was about to become their battlefield. With the other hand, he reached forward and weakly shook the hand she offered.

Formalities out of the way, Alex turned away and walked to the edge of the ring feeling good about her chances of winning. Movement near Giddon caught her attention as she was turning to face the battlefield. The three people that had been talking to him turned to watch the fight that was about to begin. They passed through a pool of sunlight as they stepped closer to the ring, briefly illuminating their features. Two young people, a man and a woman, stood to either side, but it was the man in the middle of the trio that drew Alex's eye.

She had seen plenty of people in her travels, but the man reminded her of none of them. It was not the long navy coat adorned with silver buttons that reflected the light that caught her attention. Nor was it the heavy belts visible under the coat that were clearly carrying several heavy knives and Arceus-only-knew how many other weapons. No, from the neck down he might have been interesting, but it was his face that captivated. Black hair pulled back into messy plaits and an even darker beard tied into similar braids framed a face aged by the sun and laced with scars. The sunlight caught and burned in a pair of sharp eyes for a mere moment, but it was enough. Here was a warrior who had been forged by the fires of battle.

A chill ran down Alex's spine as she turned to face her opponent, Merrit. Giddon had spoken of having customers. He had thought they might want to see her battle. Could it be that this man and the pair that flanked him, hands resting on the hilts of swords, were the customers that Giddon had spoken of? It was a question whose possible answers set her teeth on edge and tensed her muscles.

She shook her head as if it would help clear her thoughts and steadied herself, digging her heels into the hard-packed dirt floor. Her blue eyes were bright with anticipation as she met Merrit's gaze across the ring. He had already chosen a poké ball from the three at his belt, a crooked smile crossing his young face as he held it casually at his side.

The crowd was waiting, watching Alex as she mulled over which of her pokémon to choose. Habit guided her hand across to the off-white poké ball at her waist. With the least inherent weaknesses, Niobe was a favourable choice to lead. Making up her mind, she pulled the poké ball from her belt and released her drapion.

Across from her, Merrit tossed his poké ball and an unassuming yellow and black pokémon materialized. A mawile, Alex realized, a feeling of dread twisting her stomach as she recognized the heavy black jaws that were mostly hidden behind the pokémon's body. She had only ever seen one herself in the possession of a fellow trainer, and she had been grateful when she hadn't had to battle it. Where Alex had chosen Niobe for her limited weaknesses, Mawile's resistances as a part-steel-type created an entirely different challenge, one she had not planned for.

"Stay away from those jaws," she warned Niobe, her quiet words laced with concern. Facing them, Mawile did not look terribly threatening. Niobe was easily two times larger, if not even more than that. They would just have to rely on size and speed if they hoped to win.

Merrit did not look surprised or concerned about the match-up. Though she couldn't be certain, Alex had a feeling that Merrit had been in the crowd the night before. The younger trainer casually called out, "Iron defense."

Mawile brought his hands together as his entire body was engulfed in a faded blue light. Seconds passed before the light faded away.

"Lunge and cross," Alex directed, forcing her hands to unclench at her sides. She didn't need anyone — Merrit or the crowd — thinking she was nervous.

Niobe surged forward, heavy claws glowing blue. Her pointed legs carried her swiftly over the dirt floor as Mawile attempted to turn and put her jaws between them. The smaller pokémon was mid-turn when Niobe's powerful claws made contact, each one slashing across in an upward motion. The x-scissor sent Mawile sprawling across the loose dirt, dust swirling around him as he came to a stop.

Mawile pushed himself back to his feet, turning to face Niobe once more. As much as Alex knew Niobe's attacks would not be very effective, she had at least hoped there would be some signs of damage. Mawile looked completely unfazed.

"Again," Alex called, her gaze flicking briefly to the crowd. Giddon was still back against the wall, a nervous look on his face as one of the new arrivals, a woman, leaned on his shoulder. A flash of light reflected off the blade of a dagger held casually in her hand as she said something to Giddon.

"Iron head," Merrit called out, pulling Alex's attention back to the two pokémon in the ring.

Niobe was almost on top of Mawile when the black and yellow pokémon's body took on a silver glow. He surged forward to meet the drapion head on. The two slammed together, Niobe's claws grating across the hardened surface of Mawile's body. Niobe pressed her own body low, legs dragging in the dirt as the force of the impact knocked her back while Mawile rolled away.

Before Mawile could get back to his feet, Niobe seized the opening. She lunged at the smaller pokémon, her fangs and teeth glowing white. Mawile saw the drapion coming, but could not twist around fast enough. The smaller pokémon squealed with pain as Niobe latched on to his side with her powerful jaw. There was a crunching sound as Niobe tightened her hold and swung her head around. When she finally let go it was mid-swing, sending Mawile rolling across the dirt floor yet again.

Despite the ferocity of Niobe's attacks, Mawile rose easily to his feet once more. Rather than face Niobe head on again, he stood half-turned, the jaws hanging behind him swaying as he steadied himself.

"Watch it, Niobe, come around the side," Alex directed, eyeing Mawile's heavy jaws. He was smaller than Niobe, but those pointed teeth would do a lot of damage if he managed to get ahold of her.

Niobe leaped forward, racing across the ground in a wide arc faster than Mawile could follow. The two came together, exchanging blows again. Minutes passed as they avoided, blocked, and rolled across the hard ground locked together in a flurry of claws and teeth.

When they broke apart yet again each was showing signs of damage and pain as they moved, but both still stood.

_Screeeee!_

Somewhere far above came the high-pitched cry of a pokémon. Alex's gaze shot up, searching for the source of the sound. As she watched, the roof buckled and began to give way. She threw an arm over her face to protect from falling debris and scrambled backward. Her boots slipped against the loose dirt floor, threatening to send her sprawling with each step. The roof burst open and a large flying type crashed into the building, sunlight glaring off its great metal wings.

Her eyes darted about, finding Niobe scurrying after her, powerful claws batting away large chunks of ceiling that threatened to land on her. Fumbling at her belt, Alex found the drapion's poké ball and recalled her. She reached the wall, pressing her back against the sturdy surface and breathing a sigh of relief. There were people on either side of her standing against the wall with their arms up to shield their faces from the dust and debris settling around them.

Alex looked out to where the centre of the ring had been, watching as a great steel bird — a skarmory — settled heavily onto the ground, debris from the ceiling all around it. It screeched again as it tried to pull its wings in to its side, one wing refusing to bend properly.

A man descended from the creature's back, nearly collapsing to the ground as he did so. He managed to catch himself before hitting the ground, straightening up with one arm held awkwardly. Blood stained his shirt, and Alex could see the gashes across his upper arm — the arm that would have been on the same side as Skarmory's injured wing.

"Guards. They're 'ere. More coming," the man shouted as loudly as he could through teeth gritted against the pain in his arm. He pulled out a pair of poké balls, recalling the injured skarmory and releasing a breloom in its place.

Panic spread through the room. People crowded for the doors, the crowd at the back fighting to get out first. The people that had gone for the front entrance scrambled back, shouting at each other to get to the back door.

"They're outside," a woman shouted, pulling out a poké ball.

"Look, up there!" someone else shouted, pointing to the large opening in the ceiling that the skarmory had created.

Flashes of movement in the sky above the building caught the crowds attention. Flying-types were circling above. Alex spotted the massive purple form of a crobat, its four wings moving almost too fast to see.

Someone at the back of the building screamed in pain. The people that hadn't made it out the back door yet were rushing away from the opening as one person slammed the door shut and flipped a heavy bolt that looked to be barely holding on to the frame. Muffled shouts could be heard coming from the other side.

"The building is surrounded!" the man that had locked the door shouted.

Alex spun around, searching for some way out. She had made it all this way escaping the Canalave City guards, she would be damned if she was going to let some Hoenn guards arrest her.

Nearby, Theresa stood calmly with the three people she had noticed earlier and a very distraught-looking Giddon. As she watched, the man that had arrived on the skarmory joined them, his breloom watching him intently as it walked at his side. They were the only people in the room that were not panicking.

Alex followed after the injured man, glancing over to see that Merrit had come to the same conclusion that she had — the strangers were their best bet at keeping their freedom.

The injured man came to a stop facing the man Alex had noticed earlier — the man with the dark plaits of hair and scarred face. "Victor, I—" he started.

"Where's the captain?" the man — Victor — snarled, cutting off the injured man's words. He did not so much as glance at the blood trickling down the other man's arm and dripping slowly from his fingers as he addressed him.

"Sent me ahead," the injured man grunted as Theresa stepped forward and tied a strip of cloth tightly around his bleeding arm. "Said t' get yer crew back to the ship."

The dark-haired man's scowl deepened as he took in the news, and his eyes closed. When he opened them again, he seemed to have come to a decision. "We'll do as ordered."

"I would love to stick around and help, but- well, I really must be going," Giddon informed them, his face pale as he pulled a poké ball out.

"Don't you dare," the young woman that had arrived with the other strangers snapped, turning toward him with her dagger raised.

It was too late. An abra materialized at Giddon's side, and, before anyone else could move, the human and pokémon pair disappeared with a small _snap_. Any chance of Alex getting paid disappearing with them. Alex and the woman both cursed, glaring at the spot where Giddon had stood only moments earlier.

"Calm down, Henley. It's not like he would have been any help anyway," the young man — the last of the original trio of strangers — said, holding his hands up defensively when she spun on him.

Henley shoved past the young man, ignoring his words as she faced Victor. "Orders, sir?"

"You and Striker watch the back, don't let anyone in and keep an eye on the sky. That door won't hold," Victor started, looking from Henley to the injured man.

Henley stalked away from the group, pulling out poké balls as she headed for the back of the building. The injured man followed after her at a slower pace. With his injuries, Alex was surprised that he was even going to fight, but there was a fire in his eyes as he clenched his jaw and readied himself that told her he would fight until his body failed him.

"Theresa, gather everyone against that wall, it will be furthest from the fighting. Anyone that wants to fight can join us at the front," Victor continued, turning his attention to Theresa as he pointed out the wall he was referring to. His gaze followed her as she turned to walk away before shifting to the three remaining trainers before him. "Garnet, you're with me. You two—" Victor nodded at Alex and Merrit "—can fight with us if you're up to it." He pulled a pair of daggers from the belt crossing over his shoulder and held the handles out to them.

Alex reached forward and gripped the hilt of the dagger, accepting the weapon from him. Beside her, Merrit's eyes were wide as he accepted the blade that had been offered to him.

"Try not to die," Garnet laughed, brandishing his cutlass as he walked past them.

Theresa returned moments later, three trainers following after her. Several more stood back with the group by the wall, ready to protect those who would not be able to fight or whose pokémon had already fought before she had arrived.

Victor pulled a heavy knife from his belt and jammed it behind a wooden board, prying the nails that held it out of the wall. The board dropped to the ground, followed by two more. The large sliding door that the boards had been holding closed swung free from the wall.

"Prepare yourselves," Victor growled, reaching under his jacket and grabbing one poké ball after another from his belt. He had released the third before the first had even fully materialized on the hard floor.

Alex scrambled at her own belt as Victor's hand tensed around the handle for the large door. Rusty wheels squealed on an old, bent track as Victor dragged the door back. It gave way quickly, picking up momentum and slamming to a stop at the end of the track. The wheels shook and bounced, and the farthest slipped off the track, burying the corner of the heavy door in the dirt as it threatened to fall completely off and crush anyone nearby.

Saheer and Skadi appeared in front of Alex at the same time that the guards outside realized what was going on. The men and pokémon that had been standing ready at the small door scrambled back to face the large opening. Any ideas they might have had about using the small door as a bottleneck disappearing like smoke in a storm.

A dodrio stepped forward, its three heads lowered and eyes glaring at the scattering of people and pokémon standing just inside the building. The guard captain seated on its back straightened his shoulders, cleared his throat, and started, "Surrender yourselves for questioning or you will hereby be charged with theft, break-and-enter, trespassing, and pir—"

"I think not," Victor growled, stepping into the centre of the opening, a sword in one hand and dagger in his offhand.

Three pokémon followed him. On his left, a donphan, wide paws braced against the ground, and a hitmontop, expression as fierce as its master's. To his left, a hulking dragonite, green wings tensed and eyes glowing white as a ball of orange energy formed in its open maw. The dragonite let loose its hyper beam, shooting the blinding beam of orange light directly at the guard captain and his dodrio.

There was a flash of black and purple as a creature jumped between the hyper beam and the guard captain. The light from dragonite's attack subsided, revealing a volbeat standing unharmed behind the circular blue barrier that had protected the guard from the attack. The barrier pulsed and vanished as the volbeat began to buzz furiously. The buzzing grew louder until Alex had to cover her ears. Saheer jumped in front of her, blocking her from the worst of the attack as visible red sound waves blasted anyone too close to the volbeat.

The donphan and hitmontop surged forward, seemingly unfazed by the attack, followed by Victor and the dragonite. Alex and the rest of the trainers and pokémon that had stepped up to fight followed Victor's cue. Everyone was shouting orders to their pokémon as they stepped out of the shed. The guards' pokémon jumped forward to meet them, a delcatty and wartortle the first to collide, rolling across the hard ground in a flurry of teeth and claws.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught Alex's attention. She turned just in time to see Skadi launch a shadow ball at an orb of water coming straight at Alex. The two attacks met with a small explosion, water misting all around them.

The golduck responsible for the attack came charging toward them, its trainer on its heels. Saheer lunged forward to meet them, screeching furiously as a mightyena crashed into his side. The pair rolled across the sand away from her, leaving her and Skadi to face down the golduck and its trainer.

Skadi floated in front of her, snowflakes beginning to swirl around her. The guard and his pokémon were nearly upon them when she unleashed a blizzard. The guard was stopped in his tracks, raising his arms to protect his face from the snow and ice that was pelting his bare skin. Golduck battled through, taking the brunt of the attack.

The duck pokémon lowered its head, a disc of blue energy glowing at its temple as it charged at Skadi. Golduck crashed into the froslass, its zen headbutt sending her flying through the air. With Skadi and Saheer distracted by their own opponents, Alex found herself alone facing the guard.

He came at her, sword raised, and Alex froze. There wasn't enough time to grab another poké ball off her belt. All she had to defend herself was the dagger Victor had given her, the blade solidly built but no longer than her forearm.

She reacted at the last moment, lashing out with the dagger to slap the sword away as she stepped backward. The guard pressed forward, slashing and lunging. His years of training far more than she could hope to contend with, she scrambled to parry his blows and stay out of range of his sword.

Alex's arm cracked against the wooden frame of the warehouse behind her. Pain shot through her arm and down her hand through to the tips of her fingers. She cursed as the dagger she had only just been managing to keep between her and the guard's sword clattered to the ground. Spotting the dagger on the ground, a smirk crossed the guards face.

"Now, hands where I—" the guard started.

As he raised his sword a green tail whipped out at ground level, sweeping his feet out from under him. Saheer growled as he spun back around just in time to meet the mightyena from before head on. The pair crashed into the wall beside Alex, inches from crushing her. Up close, Alex could see the claw marks across Mightyena's side and hear its laboured breathing as it tried to keep up with Saheer. There was blood on the beast's teeth as it opened its jaws and tried to grab hold of the flygon's wing.

Alex ducked and scooped up the dropped dagger, not waiting to see Saheer knock the mightyena away. The moment her hand found the handle of the blade, she was turning toward the guard. He was on his knees, hands reaching for his own dropped sword when her blade stopped at his neck. The blade bounced in her unsteady hand, nicking the side of the man's neck as she kicked his sword out of reach.

A sharp whistle cut through the cacophany of battle, followed by a man shouting, "Stop!"

Careful to keep the dagger steady this time, Alex turned her head to look for the source of the shouting. It was hard to see anything at first, as the fighting slowed and came to a stop. A gap opened between a cluster of people and pokémon, revealing Victor standing behind the guard captain — the source of the order. The dark-haired man had a dagger to the captain's throat, his sword held loosely in his other hand.

"Weapons down, men," the guard captain ordered, voice wavering as he spoke.

The guards along the front of the shed stepped back, slowly lowering their sabres and calling their pokémon back. The trainers still standing straightened up, their own weapons still held threateningly in their hands. Pokémon circled back around their trainers, watching the guards with distrust.

Alex glanced back for her own pokémon, finding Saheer easily as he stalked back over to her, the mightyena he had been fighting already recalled. Behind him, Skadi's attention was still fixed on the golduck that she had been battling despite the water-type's attention turning back to its own trainer. The froslass twirled her hands together, forming a pulsing purple and black ball between them.

"Skadi, no," Alex hissed, but the snow land pokémon either did not hear her or ignored her as she fired the shadow ball at the golduck.

The force of the attack threw the golduck backward, the duck pokémon landing hard in the sand. Heads were already turning when Alex whipped out Skadi's poké ball and recalled her, her own face reddening. The battle was over and the attack had been uncalled for. The golduck rolled over, starting to push itself back up when it was recalled, vanishing in a flash of red.

"Bind their wrists," Victor called out, ignoring the scene farther down the front of the warehouse.

Henley and Striker came stalking out of the shed at that moment, two bruised and battered guards walking quickly ahead of them. Despite the damage that had been done to Striker's shoulder, it was clear he had come out of the fight better than the guards from the back of the building had. The breloom Alex had seen before and a granbull followed them out, dragging along the unconscious body of a third guard. Overhead, a noctowl soared, its eyes glowing blue. The knocked out form of a crobat floating through the air behind it, outlined in a blue that matched the owl pokémon's eyes.

Remembering the blade she still carried in her own hand, Alex glanced down at the guard before her still kneeling in the sand. She met his wide eyes and nodded to where the other trainers were gathering the guards and mumbled, "Go."

The man rose carefully to his feet, hands held out to his sides in an attempt to appear non-threatening, and followed after his coworkers. Alex grabbed his forgotten sabre from the ground and followed after him, Saheer bounding along at her side and watching the people and pokémon around them with big, curious eyes.

When all of the guards had been bound and left in the warehouse, their poké balls and weapons collected and dumped in a crate out of reach, Alex found herself standing outside the large warehouse doors with Theresa. Many of the trainers had already left, and those that had not fought had snuck out the back as soon as the fighting had ended. She supposed they hoped that none of the guards had seen their faces and they could go back to their regular lives.

Alex had no life to go back to.

She shifted from foot to foot. Her hand rested on Saheer's shoulder, drawing comfort from his familiar presence and the warmth of his scales. Her gaze flicked back to the warehouse behind her as Victor and his trio of fighters walked out through the large door, Merrit at their heels.

"Theresa, y'know what we offer, the ship ain't been the same without you," Victor growled, coming to a stop beside the older woman and turning his sharp eyes upon her.

"I suppose I won't be able to stay here now," Theresa replied, a small smile crossing her expression as she met the bearded man's gaze.

The corner of Victor's mouth ticked up, the briefest glimmer of a smile crossing his face for a second. Any hint of warmth vanished as he turned his expression on Alex, holding his hand out.

It took Alex a moment to realize what he was looking for — the dagger that she still clutched in her hand. She turned the blade back over to him, feeling a strange emptiness at giving up the weapon.

"You battled well, kid," Victor started, tucking the dagger out of sight in his coat.

"It was a short fight," Henley muttered to Striker, the words not quite quiet enough to go unheard.

Alex suppressed the scowl that she wanted to offer in response, keeping her gaze on Victor. Or as much as she could focus on Victor. She found herself averting her gaze every few seconds, unable to meet the intensity of his eyes.

Victor either did not hear her, or pretended he hadn't. "We're in need of some capable trainers to defend our ship. If you want, you can come with us. We're leavin' now, so decide quickly." Finished speaking, Victor turned on his heel and strode down the beach.

Everyone else followed quickly after him, leaving Alex and Saheer alone. Her eyes followed their retreating forms as they took a path that would lead them north, away from the city.

They were not good people, that much she was sure of. The way they had fought the guards, it had not been their first time. They had known what they were doing, and she would guess they had fought like that many times before. But she had liked Theresa, and found that she had developed respect for her in the short time she had known her. The older woman had chosen to go with them. She had known them before.

If push came to shove, Alex wasn't sure she could call herself a good person either. She had done what she had needed to do to get where she was — to reach her standing in Sinnoh before everything else had happened. Her world had crashed down around her, but she had survived. She would continue to survive.

"Come on, Saheer, we've got a job," Alex muttered, darting through the sand after the slowly shrinking figures.


	11. Chapter 10

Sketch and Itzal threw the doors open at Captain Greyson's command. A guard and his lairon tumbled through the doorway, unprepared for the sudden opening. Itzal's arbok was upon the guard instantly, wrapping around his struggling body. Flynn and Captain Greyson's sceptile went after the lairon just as quickly, sending it rolling into the wall with a crash. Paintings and portraits fell to the floor, wooden frames smashing apart and canvasses tearing.

Sketch ducked behind the door frame, bracing himself for the moment that he would have to leave the relative safety of the building. They were easily outnumbered. The only thing going for them was that the guards, as employees of the city, had to be careful how much destruction they caused. The pirates, on the other hand, would be held accountable by no one but their captain.

"By the power of the King, I hereby place you—" a man, presumably the guard captain, began to say. He was cut off mid sentence when Captain Greyson stepped forward.

Ignoring the guard captain's words, Captain Greyson raised her hand and threw the poké ball that she had been holding. It landed on the walkway just outside the doors, opening and bouncing back to the pirate's outstretched hand. The light grew larger and brighter as the pokémon took form before them.

The light faded, and all hell broke loose.

Twenty feet of cream-coloured scales ending in pink and blue had materialized on the walkway just outside of the doors. Guards and pokémon alike scrambled for safety lest they be crushed by the milotic as she coiled around to face them. The great sea serpent screeched furiously as she took in her surroundings. The guard captain was shouting orders, his voice moving further away as he fled the area around the massive water-type.

A pair of beautifly dove for her, stun spore swirling around their wings. As they drew closer, the air around Milotic's tail glowed and swirled and grew into a large twister that caught the approaching beautifly and sent them flying backward. The wicked vortex that she had created hit an unprepared swellow and golbat, ripping them from the air. All four pokémon were thrown to the ground by the force of the twister.

Guards shouted back and forth, barking orders as they attempted to manage the situation. Through the gaps in Milotic's coiled body, Sketch spotted a gallade approaching, a golbat over its head. Both pokémon's eyes glowing as they focused their attention on Milotic.

The serpentine pokémon screeched, whipping her head around as she shot a powerful burst of water from her mouth. The hydro pump blasted a cluster of humans and pokémon before the effects of Gallade and Golbat's hypnosis took effect, sending Milotic crashing to the ground asleep.

As Captain Greyson recalled Milotic, the pirates and their pokémon surged forward, exploding out of the doors with their weapons raised. Sword blades clashed and pokémon roared as the two sides came together. Houndoom bounded out ahead of them, setting buildings and trees ablaze with an inferno that took down the nuzleaf and shiftry before they could reach the group of fugitives. Gallade rolled under the worst of the flames, crashing into Houndoom's side.

The few water-types the guards had brought burst into action, fighting the fires that threatened the expensive houses lining the street. They, at least, would be too busy with the fires to get in the way of the fleeing pirates.

Sketch ducked a sword blade and parried a second blow, his attention yanked back to what was going on directly in front of him. He shoved into the attacking guard with the full weight of his body, knocking the guard backward and sending him sprawling. Sketch jumped over the man, rolling over the back of a donphan that was fighting to escape the thick toxic threads that ensnared its legs, courtesy of his ariados, Crutch.

He had only made it a few steps when an aggron reared up, towering over him. The massive creature roared, its weight shaking the ground under their feet as it braced itself and turned its attention on the young pirate. The creature's arm swung out, leaving no time to think.

A flash of brown and tan fur flew past Sketch's shoulder as Flynn barrelled into Aggron's stomach. The large armoured creature doubled over from the sucker punch — whether from pain or surprise Sketch was not going to stick around to find out. Sketch spun away from the large outstretched arm as Aggron brought it down. Heavy metal claws glanced off his right shoulder, scraping through the material of his shirt and slicing skin. The force of the impact knocked him off his feet and sent him crashing to the ground. He threw his already injured arm out to protect his face, hissing as he slammed hard against the cobblestoned street and rolled. Loose stones tore at his clothes and exposed skin, leaving bruises and scratches in their wake.

The burning pain of his shoulder barely registered as he sprang back to his feet. There was a buzzing in his ears and his heart was pounding. His feet pounded against the hard ground as he sprinted for an opening in the crowd of fighting people and pokémon. For the open street and freedom beyond.

Beside him, Flynn shook his head, looking slightly dazed from the impact with the aggron as he raced along at Sketch's heels. His furret veered off, tearing a hole in the cobblestone street. He disappeared underground just in time to avoid a diving swellow.

Nearby, two guards had Itzal trapped with his back to a building. Sketch side-stepped as a mightyena crashed into the ground directly in front of him, its paws pulled out from under it as toxic threads bound its legs. Crutch scuttled past him, purple eyes glowing as she picked up the mightyena with psychic and tossed it at a nearby sandslash.

A second mightyena crashed into the ariados, sending her sprawling. The dark-type was upon her in seconds, scrambling to pin her against the hard ground. Sketch recalled her as he ran past, not pausing to watch the mightyena crack its muzzle against the ground when its quarry vanished.

He reached Itzal in a few strides, slashing his cutlass upward along a gap in one of the guard's leather arm guards. The man dropped the sabre he was wielding and doubled over, clutching his bleeding arm. Pain shot through his own arm as the movement pulled at the gashes in his shoulder. He ground his teeth and drew in a deep breath through his nose as the pain dulled back to a level he could ignore.

Itzal lunged forward, slashing at the second guard while Sketch recovered, pushing him back. "I had it handled!" the pirate shouted over his shoulder at Sketch. He ducked a blow from the guard before kicking him in the knee and sending him to the ground with a curse.

"Sure you did," Sketch shot back, inhaling sharply as he dove under a swooping golbat.

Nearby, Itzal's arbok untangled itself from an unconscious breloom and slithered after Itzal. Its mouth parted, thick black smoke erupting out of it and surrounding them. Sketch ran through the haze after them, squinting as he struggled to see what was around him.

Overhead, the golbat screeched as it whirled around and dove at Sketch again. The young pirate swung his cutlass in a wide arc over his head in a desperate attempt to fend off the massive bat pokémon. At the last moment, the golbat cut sideways through the air, dodging around the blade and disappearing into the haze on the other side.

Sketch burst out of the smoky wall just in time to see Itzal and his pokémon disappear around a building down the street. The other pirate's croconaw was nowhere in sight. Sketch could only hope that it had been returned to its poké ball earlier in the chaos. With most of the guards now behind him, Sketch chased after Itzal.

Ahead of him, standing between him and an empty street, a zangoose spun to face him. Its fierce expression turned to one of confusion as the ground beneath its paws shifted. Dirt and cobblestones erupted as Flynn emerged from the ground below it. Zangoose tried to get out of the way, but it wasn't fast enough. Flynn slammed into Zangoose, sending the white-and-red pokémon tumbling. Its long claws flailed as it went down, catching the furret's side.

Flynn's side was starting to darken with blood when Sketch recalled him, barely having to pause to grab the poké ball as he ran past. Guards shouted behind him, but he dared not glance back as he heard the thundering steps of larger pokémon giving chase. Beside him, his sneasel bounded past, running just ahead of him. Despite looking rougher than normal, Fray looked to be having the time of his life. The brief glimpse Sketch caught of his face revealed a wicked grin and bright eyes, his long claws stained crimson.

"Turn right," a ragged voice behind him ordered.

Itzal had turned the other direction, but Sketch dared not disobey the order — he would know his captain's voice anywhere.

He ducked around the corner, feeling a scorching heat against his back as he narrowly avoided a fiery blast. Captain Greyson's Houndoom raced past him, panting heavily and fire-resistant fur looking slightly singed. Which could only mean he was not the fire-type that had nearly set them all ablaze. Sketch cursed, he had not noticed a fire-type in the mad dash to escape the guards.

Ahead of him, Fray took on a bright blue glow. He turned sharply, leaping at the closest wall and spinning around as he kicked off from it. Jagged ice shards materialized before him, shooting out at opponents behind Sketch and Captain Greyson. The sneasel's paws hit the ground again and he spun back around to run alongside Sketch.

_Thud!_ Sketch dared a glance back, watching for a brief second as one of the mightyena chasing them went down hard, ice stabbing out of its forelegs. The sight was not comforting, though, for the mightyena had not been giving chase alone. Had his heart not already been pounding, the ninetails, aggron, and donphan giving chase would have set it racing.

And they were catching up far too quickly.

Sketch fumbled for the untouched ivory poké ball still at his waist, catching the clasp that held it and tossing it out ahead of him. The banette that appeared hovered just ahead of him, facing him as she floated backward. Her head tilted to the side, purplish-pink eyes taking in the pokémon chasing after them.

"Haven, double team and shadow ball," he shouted, his voice raspy as he panted for breath.

The banette's eyes glowed and she stilled in the air. Sketch ran past her as more and more banette's appeared in the air around Haven. Each one was a mirror image of the original, moving in perfect unison as they turned on the approaching pokémon with a fierce cry.

Behind him, the donphan squealed with pain and anger as the real Haven landed a direct hit. Sketch glanced back to see the ninetails and aggron run past the halted donphan. They completely ignored the ghost-type and her duplicates attacking the ground-type as they pursued the two pirates.

"Hold your breath," Captain Greyson ordered, catching up and running alongside him. "Smog!" she shouted.

One look at the thick, black smoke spewing from Houndoom's heavy jaws was enough for him to know how important it would be to follow her command. Beside him, Fray surged forward, leaping over the growing cloud of smoke to run ahead of it. Houndoom's pace slowed, allowing the humans to catch up as the cloud grew all around him, engulfing the street.

Sketch drew in a deep breath moments before entering the thick smoke, sheathing his cutlass as he did. His lungs burned and he could feel his eyes watering as he fought to see where he was putting each running step. He urged his muscles to carry him even faster, terrified of running out of air before he had made it to the other side of the cloud.

Somewhere to his left, he could hear a poké ball open. There was a flash of light through the thick smoke, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. Sketch ran past a dark shape, its form unmoving. He had no time to think about it, his lungs desperate for air as his feet pounded against the hard ground.

He burst through the other side of the smog, drawing in a deep breath of air and coughing. His throat and lungs burned from the exertion. But he kept running. The heavy footsteps of the aggron somewhere on the other side of the black cloud more than enough motivation.

Around him, the buildings had begun to grow closer together, each passing building less impressive than the last. They were still too nice, though.

They were still too far from the ship.

Haven descended from the sky above him to float along at his side, while Fray bounded ahead of everyone. Captain Greyson had gotten several paces ahead of him while her houndoom had fallen back. A few last trailing bits of smoke escaped his mouth. His job was done, the thick, black cloud behind them blocked them from their pursuer's view, and the toxic smog would, at the very least, slow them down. Houndoom was returned to his poké ball, leaving only the two pirates, Fray and Haven. And whatever the dark figure in the smog had been.

_Screeee!_

Sketch clamped his hands over his ears and gritted his teeth against the horrible noise that rent the air. It was as if someone had taken both the sounds of zangoose claws to a chalkboard and metal against metal and mashed them together. The grating sound echoed off the stone walls of the buildings around them. The sound abruptly stopped, and Sketch pulled his hands from his ringing ears.

There was a crashing sound and a yelp, followed by a high-pitched shrieking from a pokémon somewhere behind them. The hairs on Sketch's arms and the back of his neck lifted while a shudder ran down his spine. The sound was familiar.

It sounded like laughter.

Captain Greyson reached out, grabbing him roughly by the arm and yanking him down a different street. Fray and Haven followed, easily keeping pace with the tiring humans. The cobblestones under foot ended, changing to hard-packed earth.

"We need to keep moving, there's a swellow overhead that's been following our every step. It will alert the guards wherever we go," Captain Greyson informed him, her pace slowing to a steady jog as she released Sketch's arm.

Sketch slowed his pace to match hers, his burning muscles protesting slightly less at the slower speed. The throbbing pain in his shoulder was beginning to make itself known, and his lungs were on fire. Every move he made pulled at the shirt cloth plastered against the gashes in his skin.

He cast his gaze upward, spotting the dark-blue and white speck in the sky high above them. None of their pokémon would be able to catch the large bird no matter how hard they tried.

"Hopefully the crew is ready," Sketch hissed, clenching his fists. They should have left the moment the king's advisor had told them she had called for the guards. Yet here they were, running for their lives.

"They'll be ready," his captain replied evenly, sheathing her cutlass.

Sketch did not share her confidence.

The streets grew busier the longer they ran. Shops and taverns began to pop up among the buildings. Carts and carriages rolled past them while people parted, stepping out of the way of the two bedraggled pirates and the sneasel and banette that followed them. The sounds of ocean waves carried lightly over the wind. They were nearing the water, and the safety of the ship.

Overhead, the swellow still tracked their every move.

Sketch pulled out Haven and Fray's poké balls, recalling them in the hope that he wouldn't need them again before they reached the ship. They reached the outskirts of the city without any more trouble. Sketch wasn't sure if Captain Greyson had just been lucky or if she had somehow known, but every street she had led them down was free of guards.

Sketch and Captain Greyson crashed through the trees, choosing speed over stealth. With the swellow in the sky, there was no point in trying to be sneaky.

"There they are!" a voice behind them shouted.

"Stop them!" a second voice ordered.

Sketch glanced back, spotting flashes of blue- and silver-painted armour between the trees. "Aw, hell," he muttered, picking up his pace.

They fought through the dense brush and burst through the tree line. There was a flurry of movement on the beach as they emerged from the forest. Half a dozen swords were directed at them, each pointed end dangerously close to their necks.

"Captain!" Garnet shouted, immediately lowering his blade.

"We weren't sure you were going to make it. When Itzal showed up without you two, we thought the worst might have happened," Connor informed them, stepping back.

The rest of the crew lowered their weapons, moving back out of their captain's way. Behind them, Sketch spotted three people that had not been with them earlier that morning. He was pleased to find that he recognized one of the three at least — Theresa. How Victor had convinced her to return to the ship he did not know, but he was glad for it regardless. The other two were younger, closer to his own age, and looked uncertain about their current situation. Neither looked particularly impressive.

"The guards are on our tail," Sketch told them, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"You should have gone back to the ship without us," Captain Greyson added, eyes of steel focused on Victor when she spoke.

The scarred man simply nodded, the amber beads in his beard swinging as he did. "To the ship, lads," he barked out.

Connor and Piper hurried to the water's edge to climb up onto their individual lapras'. While they helped the rest of the crew up onto the transport pokemon's shells, Captain Greyson pulled out a poké ball. Before her, her kingdra materialized, half of its blue body visible above the waves. Captain Greyson waded out into the water and climbed onto the large creature's back, gripping the spines of the fin on his back for balance. They drifted quickly out to deeper waters, the kingdra never turning its attention away from the shore.

Following his captain's lead, Sketch pulled out Hurricane's poké ball, releasing her into the water with a small splash. The mantine glanced about with some confusion, but cooed happily when Sketch climbed up onto her back and gave her a soft pat as she followed after the kingdra.

One of their new recruits, a boy, hesitated on the beach, his hand on his own poké ball. A look of resolve crossed his face before he threw the ball, releasing a wailmer into the water beside Hurricane. Sketch spared the round water-type a quick glance as the boy climbed aboard, pleased to see that both pokémon and trainer looked practised on water as they cut through the waves beside him.

The last of the crew had just climbed aboard the two lapras when guards erupted from the brush running along the beach. They were shouting for the pirates to stop, throwing poké balls and barking commands when the pirates kept moving.

"Get to the ship, and _get. It. Moving!_" Captain Greyson shouted at Connor and Piper. Without waiting to make sure that they obeyed, she turned her attention back to the humans and pokémon spreading out along the shore. "Draco meteor," she commanded quietly of the kingdra, Sketch barely catching the words as they were carried across on the ocean breeze.

The kingdra's body glowed orange as it focused its energy. A glowing orb rapidly took form before it. With a furious cry, it fired the blazing orange orb of energy into the sky. It shot through the open air, growing ever larger as it travelled, until it came to a sudden stop over the beach.

_Bang!_

The orb exploded as suddenly as it had stopped. The sound echoed over the waves as dozens of energy orbs rained down on the beach. Guards and pokémon ducked under shields, both metal and those created by the pokémon, while others ran for the cover of the trees as the orbs crashed to earth. Sand erupted from the ground where they hit and large pits formed from their impact.

The two lapras carrying the rest of the pirates cut quickly through the water, passing by Sketch, Captain Greyson, and the boy on the wailmer. They did not pause or hesitate, nor did they look back at the destruction on the beach behind them as they headed for the ship.

"Hurricane, psybeam," Sketch directed, spotting a swellow that had evaded the kingdra's attack and was swooping down toward the pirates on the lapras.

Hurricane turned in the water, finding the swellow as it dropped lower in the air. Sketch shielded his eyes with his hand against the vibrant light from the multi-coloured beam that Hurricane shot at the dark blue bird pokémon. The beam hit the swellow directly, sending it crashing toward the water below. At the last moment it stopped just above the water line, its wings beat unevenly and it squawked furiously as it turned back toward the beach.

The group was closing in on the ship as the guards on the shore regrouped. A glance back over his shoulder showed the pirates had started climbing up the rope ladder from the lapras below. Pokémon were materializing in the water and sky around the ship as the crew on the main deck took up defencive positions. Pelipper and pidgeotto cut through the air, circling around the masts, while tentacruel and sharpedo ducked below the waves around the ship. Damian's gyarados roared as it materialized near the front of the ship, its tail slapping hard against the water as it dared the guards' pokémon to approach.

"Get on board." Captain Greyson's words pulled Sketch's attention back to the rope ladder. Connor was just climbing over the side of the ship, the last person off the pair of lapras.

Sketch waved the boy on the wailmer ahead of himself, urging Hurricane to follow him to the side of the ship. Sketch grabbed hold of the rope, steadying the ladder as the boy started to climb. As soon as the other boy was far enough up, Sketch started to follow, wincing at the pain that lanced through his shoulder as the effort of climbing pulled at the muscles where he'd been cut.

The main deck was organized chaos as he climbed over the railing to stand on solid ground. The sailors had unfurled the sails, and he felt the ship shift as the anchor came free from the seabed far below. Damian was barking orders at his sailors as they hauled on the braces and adjusted the yards.

Captain Greyson climbed up behind him. "Down to the sick bay," she ordered, hardly sparing him a glance as she walked past, heading for the quarter deck.

Sketch hesitated, glancing back at the waters below. They were teeming with pokémon. As he watched, the red tentacles of Victor's octillery wrapped around an attacking azumarill, dragging the round blue-and-white creature underwater. Unless more reinforcements arrived shortly, they had the guards outnumbered. After a moment of indecision, he recalled Hurricane. If the ship was moving and he wasn't going to be above deck, he wouldn't risk her safety — not while they had the upper hand.

With the pain in his shoulder making itself known, Sketch followed his captain to the aft of the ship. Rather than follow her up the steps to the quarterdeck, though, he veered off and ducked through a small doorway tucked away in the port-side wall of the steps. Through the doorway was a narrow set of stairs that ran down to the berth deck. Sketch had to duck to get through, the ceiling above the opening and first few steps uncomfortably low before opening up the farther down the stairs one went.

The sick bay was located at the aft of the ship, beneath the navigation room and captain's quarters, with the door at the bottom of the stairs. Within only that single room of the ship did one person ever outrank the captain; the _Sea Phantom_'s doctor and surgeon, Brenna. Few other pirate ships were fortunate enough to have an experienced doctor, let alone one as experienced as her.

The room itself was rarely empty, and that day was no exception. As Sketch slipped quietly through the door, he spotted Striker sitting on one of the half dozen cots bolted to the deck floor. Only three others were in the room. Krystina, Brenna's assistant — or a carpenter's mate, depending who needed the most help any given moment — was wiping down Striker's arm with a bloodied cloth. Her aipom hung off her shoulder and Brenna's lopunny stood at her side, the two holding fresh cloths and a bowl, respectively. Brenna herself was nowhere to be seen.

Sketch weaved around the tightly-packed cots to the cupboards on the starboard wall, grabbing the half-empty bottle of rum off the counter there. Tipping the bottle back, he took a swig and leaned back against the counter to watch the brunette woman work on the gunner's arm.

"Put the bottle down, Sketch. Brenna doesn't appreciate you drinking her supplies," Krystina called over her shoulder to him.

"She's gonna give it to me when she sees my shoulder, anyway," he muttered, scowling upon hearing the waver in his own voice as he spoke. It might have been the pain or it might have been the blood loss, but he was certain the room was tipping, and not in the way that he had grown used to on the ship. He took a second swig just for good measure before setting the bottle aside. His left hand remained on the counter, bracing him there as his balance no longer felt trustworthy.

Krystina did not reply, though the scowl was easy to see despite his eyes playing tricks on him. Her attention was focused fully on Striker as she set aside the bloody cloths and directed him to lay down.

"Arceus' sakes, woman," Striker hissed the moment she began moving his arm. To her credit, she seemed to completely tune out the string of curses that followed as she popped his shoulder back into place.

The young woman offered Striker a bottle of rum that had been sitting on the floor beside the cot. He snatched it from her grip, draining the last couple of mouthfuls before dropping the bottle back to the floor and collapsing back against the cot.

"Ah, well done. Now that that arm is back in place, let's show you how best to wrap it in a sling." Sketch and Krystina both turned their attention on the doorway as Brenna swept into the room carrying a bundle of supplies, a chimecho floating along just behind her. Her salt-and-pepper hair was knotted on top of her head, pieces beginning to fray and come free. Lines fanned out from her eyes and her tawny skin was tanned and weathered from many years in the sun.

The older woman turned her attention on Sketch, spotting him standing against the counter as she stepped further into the room. Her eyes focused immediately on the wet shirt cloth clinging to his right shoulder, the blood soaking it turning the navy blue material an inky black colour. Brenna made a clicking sound with her tongue as she strode over to him, her hand gentle but firm as she turned him to get a better look at his wound.

"Striker. You will lay on that cot and not move until we have had time to bind that shoulder of yours, do you hear me?" she called out, not bothering to look back at the man on the cot.

"Aye, ma'am," Striker grunted, not looking terribly disappointed at the news.

"Come. Sit." Brenna set the supplies she had been carrying on the counter and guided Sketch to an old chair, her steady hand holding his good arm.

The older woman turned to give Krystina directions while Sketch took a seat straddling the chair. While he listened to the two women move about discussing and grabbing what they needed, Sketch began unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt. The waistcoat was easy enough to slip off so he dropped it to the floor in front of him. The cuts in it were noticeable, but the edges were clean. Salvageable. The thinner material of the shirt, however, was plastered to his back, pulling at the wounds when he moved.

"Here."

The bottle of rum he had been drinking from before appeared before him. He accepted the drink from Krystina, swallowing a mouthful before setting it down within reach.

"Careful," Sketch hissed as they started pulling the shredded cloth of his shirt out of the cuts.

"You have made a mess of this," Brenna informed him, her voice matter-of-fact as she finished freeing his shirt from his skin. The tattered piece of clothing was dropped to the floor, leaving Sketch bare from the waist up. "Were you aware that there is gravel in here?"

"This is going to hurt," Krystina warned him as one of the two women poured rum over his cuts.

The pain was searing and instant as the alcohol ran over the open wounds. Sketch's knuckles turned white as he gripped the back of the chair. Had he not been clenching his jaw so tightly he might have shouted at the pair for their poor idea of a warning.

While they continued to work, cleaning out the wound with more alcohol and damp cloths, Sketch bowed his head and tried to focus on anything other than the fire in his shoulder. His hands were becoming numb where they gripped the chair, a combination of the rum and the tightness of his grip. Below him, he could feel the ship as it leaned with each wave that it cut through. They were still moving. They must have been at least a few miles off the coast by that point, heading whatever direction Captain Greyson had in mind now.

Thinking about the ship's direction turned his thoughts back to the captain and their trip into Lilycove City. It had been enlightening, but he was certain the captain had taken far more away from it than he had. He had questions for Captain Greyson, not the least of which being how in Groudon's blazes she knew one of the king's advisors. He had been on the ship nearly six years, working his way up from cabin boy to first mate, and he had never heard any of the crew mention such a relationship.

He likely wouldn't get any answers from the captain herself, either. She would tell him whatever she wished to share and keep her secrets to herself.

Brenna was in the middle of demonstrating the proper way to stitch wounds when he heard boots on the steps outside the sick bay. At least three sets. The door opened, and Victor's three new gunners walked through.

Theresa leaned against the wall while the other two milled about awkwardly. They were waiting for him. Likely Victor's idea to send them to him first. Sketch sighed, reaching down for the rum bottle. All he wanted was a nap, but when Brenna was finished, he would have to walk them through their orientation to the ship.

He could only hope that Victor had not chosen poorly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the character of Krystina goes to Shadow Serenity 57 on FFnet.


	12. Chapter 11

Monday morning came, and, as Lord Theodore had promised, Erik and Millie were waiting for Ki just inside the Canalave City library doors. Millie was mid-conversation with the clerk working the front desk while Erik stood admiring an old painting of Sinnoh’s Lake Acuity shrouded in mist.

Erik turned at Ki’s entrance, their eyes meeting. Ki had not met Theo’s son before, he was one of the few of Niles’ family he had not yet met. The man that stood before him was clearly among the older of Niles’ grandchildren, likely around the age of thirty if Ki was not mistaken. 

“Canalave City is fortunate to have such exquisite works here, and by such sought-after artists,” Erik said, tilting his head toward the painting he had been admiring.

“There are many lords and ladies who hold the library in high esteem, you’ll find a number of items throughout that have been donated by the families,” Ki replied, pointing out the small golden plaque beneath the painting that indicated not only the name and artist of the piece, but also the name of the person that had donated it.

“I’d much rather see this map I’ve heard so much about than look at the art,” Millie cut in, offering Ki a bright smile as she joined them.

Ki offered her a small smile in return, grateful for her cheerful energy next to Erik’s more reserved manner. “Of course, if you’ll follow me.” Ki turned to lead them to the offices in the back, where their work awaited them.

As they stepped into his office, Millie tapped him on the shoulder, pulling his attention from the tables to her face where her cheeks were quickly turning pink. “Would it be alright if I allowed Sheldon out of his ball?” she asked hesitantly, the green poke ball already in her hand.

“That should be fine, I usually let Zel out myself,” he replied, pulling out the buizel’s poke ball and releasing her to prove his point.

The blush on Millie’s cheeks faded and she smiled again as she released her turtwig. Zel bounced over to the grass-type, sniffing at him curiously as he shot her a warning glare. When she got too close anyway, the turtwig twisted around to nip at her and Zel reared up and tumbled backward with a small squeak.

Ki led Millie to the desk where the ancient map lay. The main focus of the map itself was Sinnoh, painted in fading greens and greys that swirled and sat surrounded by a stormy blue ocean. Where water stretched out to the North, East, and West, the drawings grew more fantastical. Great beasts of sky and sea threatened any who dared venture far off from the coasts into unknown waters.

“Oh. Wow,” Millie breathed, running a hand lightly over the delicate canvas. “It’s beautiful.”

“Right now, it’s no more than a nightmare and a headache. Do you think you can fix it?” Ki replied, running a hand through his white hair.

“I believe so, but it will be more difficult than I had expected.” Millie didn’t take her eyes off the map, running her fingers down the largest tear, feeling at the frayed edges. “I don’t suppose you have any wurmple silk?” she asked, finally pulling her gaze away to meet Ki’s eyes.

Ki hesitated, trying to recall what they might have in the supply room. “I couldn’t say for sure if we have any left. If we do, it would be in that room. You are free to use any supplies in there, and we can get just about anything that’s not there.” He waved a hand in the direction of a door in the back corner of the room, crates stacked beside it.

Millie glanced down at the map one last time before disappearing into the supply closet, leaving Ki alone with Erik and the two pokémon. _No, three pokémon_, he corrected himself, finding a smeargle perched on the other man’s shoulder when he turned back around. He eyed the painter pokémon warily, watching the tail as it swayed back and forth. Not a single drop of paint fell from it.

The tension leaving his muscles, he walked over to join Erik at the table of damaged books. “These are all the items that haven’t been started,” Ki informed him, pulling Erik from whatever thoughts had been going through his mind. “Books that are finished will go on that table there, while ones that have been started can go over there if anything seems to be missing. And loose pages over there.”

“Got it,” Erik replied, following Ki’s waving arm with his eyes. The smeargle on his shoulder appeared less interested, until Ki began walking them through how to repair a binding.

They worked mostly silently, engrossed in their individual tasks except when one had questions. To Ki’s surprise, Millie was the quietest of them all, so focused on the wurmple silk that she was working into a near-invisible thread that he had to repeat himself a second time before finally catching her attention.

“Sorry?” Millie mumbled, dragging her gaze away from the thread in her hands to meet Ki’s eyes.

“If you’re alright here for now, I have some business to take care of down at the port,” Ki repeated, smiling as he shook his head.

“Oh, yes, of course!” Millie replied, grinning back at him. “You should fetch some treats while you’re out, if you have time. Some pastries would be lovely while we’re working.”

“I will see what I can find,” Ki replied, turning to glance at Erik. “Are you in need of anything?”

Erik shook his head no, eyes not leaving the pages he was re-inserting into a book being propped up by his smeargle. The look of concentration on his face provided a sense of relief for Ki. His two assistants were already proving to be invaluable, and they were only a couple of hours into the day.

* * *

Outside of the library, the day had warmed considerably, and there was not a cloud in the sky. There was also not a single empty carriage in sight. His own driver usually did not hang around, instead running errands and gathering supplies for the house while Ki working.

The docks were not too terribly far away. By carriage it was usually a very short ride. With the warm sun encouraging him, Ki set off down the cobblestone street on foot, enjoying the light breeze against the exposed skin of his hands and face.

The port was in sight by the time Ki had to stop for a rest. Leaning against the guard rail that ran along each side of the canal, he peered over into the waters down below while he caught his breath. Regret over his decision to walk lingered at the edge of his thoughts, but he pushed it back, reminding himself that the naval office was just out of sight.

His gaze drifted down the canal, to where the stone ended and the sea continued to the farthest edges of the horizon. The water glistened and sparkled with the bright sun shining down on it as it churned below. An inviting vision and reminder of the vastness of the world. It filled him with a sense of longing. A longing to chase the horizon and see what other wonders were hidden from him.

A cough wracked his thin frame, his hands gripping the guard rail tightly to steady himself until the fit passed. The cloud of dreams and longing slipped from his mind as quickly as it had come over him. His gaze slipped back down to the port as he resumed walking.

His destination came into view as soon as he rounded an old shed. The naval office was a squat, stone building seated on the south side of the great draw bridge that connected the two sides of the city. It was, as always, bustling with activity when Ki arrived. The front door was constantly opening and closing as sailors and officers came to and from the building while messengers hurried about with their letters and packages.

Ki stood back against a wall until the harried young man sitting behind the front desk was free. Stepping forward, he addressed the young clerk, “I’m here to see Lord Roric.”

“Name?” the clerk replied, glancing up at him from across the desk.

“Ki. From the library.”

“One moment, please.” The clerk scribbled something down on a piece of paper before disappearing behind a door. The young man reappeared moments later, beckoning Ki to follow him. “Right this way, please.” 

Ki followed him down a tight hallway lined with doors, tucking himself against the wall to avoid crashing into the officers heading the opposite direction. He was ushered through a door at the end of the hall and into a large office. The lone window overlooked the canaland the sunlit waves coming down the channel from the sea beyond.

The door closed behind him as the clerk ducked out of the room to hurry back to his desk. Ki turned his attention to Lord Roric, waiting quietly as the young man finished penning a letter. With the starly quill tucked into its holder the captain looked up at Ki, meeting his gaze.

“Lord Roric.” Ki ducked his head in a small bow. “My name is Ki, I work at—”

“—the library. Yes, you were the one I spoke with the other day. Please, sit.” He waved his hand toward the pair of chairs facing the desk. When Ki had taken a seat, he continued, “I hope you are here with good news?” 

“I wish that were the case. Unfortunately, no, I am here to inform you that Niles has come down with the winter fever. He is recovering in Jubilife City with his family. It will be some time before he is able to return to work.” Ki’s gaze slipped down to his hands, intertwined on his lap as he forced the memory of his mentor in his sickbed from his mind.

There was a moment of silence while Roric processed the news Ki had shared with him. “I’m sorry to hear that, hopefully it is a quick recovery.”

Ki glanced up, seeing the creases between the other man’s brows and the firm set of his mouth. He seemed sincere. “Thank you. However, if it is the services of the library that you seek, I have worked with Niles for several years. In his absence, I serve as the head archivist.” Ki forced a small smile, hoping his expression was both reassuring and confident despite the way his stomach flipped at his own words. He spoke the truth, but he had never really been in a position where it mattered. 

Roric paused again, steady eyes studying Ki. Whatever he found there must have satisfied him because, a moment later, he sighed and asked, “What news have you heard about the other regions recently?”

It was an odd question. Ki’s eyes narrowed and his gaze went to the window, watching the waves in the canal as he thought back to anything he might have heard. Finally, he pulled his attention back to the man across the desk and answered, “I can’t say I have heard much. I know King Nathaniel and Queen Adrianna declared a new royal champion, a trainer from Johto if I heard correctly.”

“Ah, yes, that much is true. I suppose it is good if that is all that you have heard, the longer it takes for word to spread, the better.” In that moment, Ki could see Roric drop his composure for the briefest of moments. He looked both young and uncertain, and Ki could see the shadows beneath his eyes that would seem to hint at a lack of sleep.

Ki said nothing, for he had nothing to say. He simply raised a brow, puzzled and concerned at the strange statement.

Roric rubbed a hand down his face. “What I am going to tell you, you cannot repeat to anyone.” Steel returned to his gaze as he met Ki’s eyes.

Ki nodded his acknowledgement, hoping that Roric could see how serious Ki was taking their conversation. Hoping that he would not see how much it thrilled him that he would share what seemed to be an important secret.

“There is a sickness spreading across the other regions unlike anything they have seen before. The plant life is dying, the wild pokémon are starving and attacking human settlements. People and pokémon are dying.” Roric informed him, the words matter-of-fact and his voice flat. This was not recent news to him.

“And you think it’s going to spread here,” Ki guessed, his words drawn out as his chest tightened.

“It seems likely. There’s talk of closing the ports to slow it down…” Roric trailed off, the uncertainty that came with youth and inexperience becoming more evident.

“What can I do to help?”

“Take these. Show them to no one,” Roric replied, handing Ki a bundle of letters from a drawer in his desk. “I had hoped to give these to Niles, that with his knowledge of Sinnoh’s history he might be able to shed some light on this problem.”

Ki accepted the letters, considering them. “The library has more information on Sinnoh’s history than anywhere else in the region, if there’s anything there I will find it.”

“If you find _anything_, you must let me know,” Roric ordered, rising from his seat. “And remember, you must share this with no one.”

Ki followed Roric’s lead, rising from his chair and following him as he escorted the younger archivist from the building.

* * *

That evening, Ki found himself seated at the desk in his room at home, all of his personal books and papers pushed to the side to make room for the stack of envelopes that Roric had handed him earlier that day. Supper had been simple, yet his stomach was roiling as he untied the pale blue ribbon that was holding the stack together. His hands shook as they grasped the first letter, his breath catching in his throat as he flipped back the flap on the back and pulled the first letter out.

There was no turning back now.

Ki closed his eyes tight and drew in a deep breath, feeling his chest tighten as his lungs filled. His lips parted and he expelled all of the air at once, finishing with a cough. He could put it off no longer, he unfolded the letter in his hand and took in the worn, crumpled edges from multiple readings and the tight handwriting that spilled down the page.

_Your Royal Highnesses, Princess Natalia and Prince Liam,_

_It is with the gravest of concerns that I write to you. _

_We have discovered what seems to be a disease spreading across our lands. Western Johto has seen plant life wither and wild pokémon have begun attacking human settlements. Our best guess is that they are looking for food as their natural sources are dying out. The survivors of the attacks are left shaken and some have begun speaking nonsense. Our doctors believe this is just an effect of the shock and that it will pass._

_King Emery of Hoenn has been in contact with us as well. What he has described to us is not unlike what we ourselves are seeing here in Johto and, most recently, pockets of Kanto. The lands of Western Hoenn are sick with a disease that does not seem to differentiate between crops, grasses, and trees. Great fires have decimated many acres of his land, the rotten plant life acting as a tinder. Emery has closed off the western parts of the region to travel so as to prevent panic amongst his people. Though Emery was the first to identify that there is a problem, we do not wish to assume that Hoenn is the epicentre of this disease._

_While we hope that Sinnoh has been untouched by this, we ask that you task your best people with this concern. It is our belief that only together will we be able to put a stop to this sickness that is harming our lands. For that reason, we ask that you share anything that you discover with us as well as with King Emery. _

_Hoping this letter finds you well,_

_Queen Adrianna of Kanto_

The Kanto seal adorned the bottom of the page, symbols of fire, ice, and lightning pressed into melted blue wax.

Ki flattened the page out on the surface of the desk, his eyes poring over every detail as he read it through a second time.

Lord Roric had told him the basics. He had known that what he would find in the letters would be bad. What he hadn’t expected was how depressing it would be to read. Only one letter into the stack and he was already beginning to see how mentally unprepared he had truly been. 

Lead filled his limbs as he reached for the second letter, an invisible weight pressing against him as he opened the envelope. The second letter was an easier read, a simple copy of the Sinnoh royalty’s response to the request for help informing that they would do what they could. An easy transition into the third letter.

The third letter detailed the research done by a Doctor Birch of Hoenn. The doctor had taken samples of the affected plants, detailing with sketches how the roots appeared to have darkened and become rotten while the leaves and stems became dry and woody as the plant slowly died. He compared the effects to other diseases and flooding, but had no explanation as to why it was affecting everything, why it was appearing where it had, or how it spread.

Ki leaned back with a sigh. Three letters done, countless more to go. The evening was still young, but he already knew it would be a long night. He pushed back from his desk, the chair scraping over the hard floor. If he was going to go through the entire stack that night, he was going to need refreshments.

Resolved, he made his way down into the kitchen, only to nearly run into Annika on her way out. A small herd of pokémon followed at her heels; her kricketune and piplup, the family’s glameow, and his own buizel, Zel.

“Oh, goodness, you scared me!” Annika smacked his shoulder lightly, holding her other hand to her chest.

“I wasn’t expecting to find anyone else down here,” Ki replied, raising a brow in question. 

Zel wound herself around his legs, chirping softly up at him. There was no denying the big black eyes that stared up at him; relenting, he picked her up, helping her to wrap herself around the back of his neck. Her short coat was soft against his skin and she radiated a welcome warmth.

“I just thought I’d see if there was anything leftover from supper.” Annika was matter-of-fact as she answered, careful not to look down at the small gathering around her feet.

“Ah, of course, and I’m sure you didn’t give them any of it and break mother’s rule,” Ki replied, voice dripping sarcasm as he stepped around her into the kitchen.

“Well, of course, and that’s exactly what you’ll tell her if she asks. Besides, what are you doing down here?” Annika followed him back into the kitchen, nearly tripping over the glameow that was wrapping itself around her ankle. The catty pokémon hissed, glaring at the young woman before darting out of the room.

“I thought I would get myself a cup of tea.”

“Sorry, none left.”

“Then I’ll just make some,” Ki laughed.

“I’ve tasted your tea, are you sure you know how?”

“Very funny, as if yours is any better.” Ki rolled his eyes as he pulled the kettle down from a shelf.

Annika plucked the kettle from his hands and made her way around the counter to find the water. “Sit back, baby brother, and I will show you what flavour is,” she called back over her shoulder.

Ki shook his head, leaning back against the counter to watch as his sister prepped the water and scavenged through the cupboards. She was so cheerful, he could almost put thoughts of the letters and the problems of the world out of mind. Almost.

“You didn’t hang around after supper to visit.” It was a statement, but Ki heard the question behind Annika’s words.

“Today was a lot,” Ki replied simply. It was the truth, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to retire to bed early.

Both were quiet, listening to the low bubbling of the water as it began to boil over the small fire. The only one that made any noise was Zel, chirping quietly as she adjusted her position around his neck, stretching her paws out.

Annika finished fiddling with the tea leaves and pot, pulling the kettle from the fire and pouring the water in. With the tea steeping, she leaned against the counter opposite from Ki. Her dark eyes met his light ones, studying his face. She offered him a soft smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“If it’s Niles you’re worrying about, he’s going to be okay,” Annika assured him, her smile fading.

“I know. I’m fine, honestly, you can stop your worrying.” Ki glanced away. He meant his words, but somewhere in the back of his head he wondered how honest he was really being.

“If you say so,” Annika replied dryly, her eyes never leaving his face. After a moment, she added, “You know you can come to me with anything, right?”

“I know,” Ki repeated, looking back at her, head cocked to the side as he met her stare. “That tea must be just about ready.”

“This is why your tea has no flavour! You need to give it time,” she replied, drawing out the last word to further make her point. Throwing her arms up in the air, she walked away from him to pull a pair of mugs and saucers from the shelves over the counters. She left the teapot where it was, though, determined to wait even longer.

Ki snorted but made no move to grab the teapot. He would humour her if it meant he didn’t have to listen to her insult how he made his tea again. There was, perhaps, another reason that he decided to obey her, though he did his best not to think about it. The sooner the tea was ready, the sooner he would be returning to his room and the doom and gloom that awaited him there.

“Millie seems like a nice girl, and she’s nearly the same age as you,” Annika said suggestively, turning her attention back to her brother.

“She has a bright future.” Ki knew exactly where his sister wanted to take the conversation, and he was not interested in having that discussion. It wasn’t that he had never considered Millie in that light — he simply did not believe he was an adequate suitor, not with his poor health. Instead, he turned the conversation back on her, asking, “Whatever happened to that last fellow that mother and father tried introducing you to?” 

“As if that was ever going to happen,” Annika scoffed, rolling her eyes up to look at the ceiling before meeting his gaze again. “I think if his ego was any bigger his head might have burst. You know, he tried telling me Princess Natalia had eyes for him. Imagine that,” she finished with a laugh.

Ki chuckled, shaking his head at the thought.

Annika chatted on about the failed meeting as she poured the tea and added a pinch of sugar. Finally, she offered him a mug resting neatly on a saucer.

“Enjoy.” She smiled brightly at him before wandering out of the kitchen with her own mug, her piplup and kricketune close on her heel.

Ki made his way back upstairs with his tea in hand and Zel napping comfortably around his neck. There was a knot in his gut and his shoulders were beginning to ache from tension and the weight of the buizel, but he promised himself he was going to get through every last one of the letters that night, all else be damned.


End file.
